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ii I 



I 



LECTURES 



MODERN HISTORY 



LECTURES 



MODERN HISTORY, 



THE IRRUPTION OF THE NORTHERN NATIONS 



THE CLOSE OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. 



By WILLIAM SMYTH, 

PROFESSOR OP MODERN HISTORY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE. 



THIRD AMERICAN EDITION, REVISED AND CORRECTED. 
WITH ADDITIONS : 

INCLUDING 

a preface, and a list of books on american history, 
By JARED sparks. 





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BOSTON: 

BENJAMIN B. MUSSEY AND COMPANY. 

1849. 



i%A 



3 



03 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1849, by 

Benjamin B. Musset and Company, 

in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 



CABI BRIDGE: 

STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY 

metcalf and company, 

PRINTERS TO THE UNIVERSITY. 



7/^ 



/7 



PREFACE 



THE FIRST AMERICAN EDITION. 



Nothing so much embarrasses a student, who is beginning the 
study of history, as the difficulty he finds in selecting the best 
authors, ascertaining their intrinsic and relative merits, and in 
marking out for himself the most profitable course of reading. He 
is bewildered ^ amidst a multitude of books, and perpetually at a 
loss, as he proceeds, to determine the comparative importance of 
periods, events, and characters. If he seeks a guide, he is either 
met by a dry catalogue of authors, arranged with little discrimina- 
tion, or referred to abridgments and abstracts, as destitute of the 
soul and substance of history, properly so called, as a skeleton is 
of the spirit and proportions of a living man. His time is thus lost 
and his patience exhausted, while he makes scarcely any progress 
in those acquisitions which it is the design of history to communi- 
cate, and by which the mind should be expanded and strengthened 
at the same time that it is enriched with facts. 

Professor Smyth has undertaken to remove these obstacles ; and, 
if we may judge by the manner in which his task has been executed 
in these volumes, it is safe to say that it could not have fallen into 
more skilful or experienced hands. His object is to teach students, 
and readers generally, how to read history for themselves ; to show 
them the path, and furnish them the best lights for pursuing it ; to 
enable them to form a just estimate of the principal authors, and 



vi PREFACE TO THE 

to bring forward In bold relief those prominent parts of history to 
■which their attention should chiefly be directed. His plan is un- 
folded with clearness and precision in his Introductory Lecture. 
It is broad and comprehensive, and such as could not have been 
carried out, in the finished manner it has been, without a critical 
examination of a large number of authors, and close and patient 
meditation upon the contents of their works. There is nothing 
superficial or ill digested ; nothing taken at second hand ; the lec- 
turer's mind is brought to bear, with its own original vigor, upon 
all the subjects that come under his notice ; his opinions are frankly 
and fearlessly expressed, and sustained by a force of reasoning 
which rarely fails to produce conviction, never to inspire respect 
and confidence. 

He adopts a method at once perspicuous and well suited to the 
end he has in view. He selects certain periods of history, and 
groups together the great events in each, investigating their rela- 
tion to each other in the order of cause and efiect, and their results 
on the civil and political condition of states and communities ; pre- 
serving, as he advances, an easy and natural transition from one 
period to another. 

This method affords occasion for philosophical reflections, in which 
the author is profound and sagacious, without any of the vague 
generalization and speculative theories which too much abound in 
works assuming the title of philosophical history. Professor Smyth's 
philosophy is of that rational kind which builds itself on established 
principles and truths, and in which he has so much respect for the 
good sense of his readers, that he is willing to address himself to 
their understanding. He betrays no affection for that spurious 
philosophy which disdains the wisdom of experience, which finds 
truth only in novelties, and substitutes the dreams of the imagina- 
tion for the dictates of a sound judgment, soaring above or sinking 
below the comprehension of ordinary minds. He looks deeply into 
the workings of the human heart, and studies the passions of men 
as they have been implanted in their nature and exhibited on the 
great theatre of human action, tracing out their influence in mould- 



FIRST AMERICAN EDITION. VU 

ing the structure of society, in raising up nations to power and 
glory, or bringing them down to degradation and ruin ; thus deduc- 
ing lessons of practical apphcation and utility. 

He never forgets that the legitimate use of history, as a study, is 
to teach by examples. Like the inductive philosophy in science, 
the instruction sought from history proceeds from known facts to 
general results. History itself is a record of a series of experi- 
ments which men have tried for the purpose of promoting their 
well-being and happiness in a social state. Some of these experi- 
ments have succeeded, others have failed ; but the lessons in each 
case are valuable, as showing what is to be either imitated or avoid- 
ed. To explain and enforce these lessons, drawn from a thorough 
knowledge of the progress of nations in political science, and of men 
in attaining civil hberty and a free enjoyment of their rights under 
different forms of government, constitutes the most useful element 
of the philosophy of history ; and in this part of his subject no writer 
has been more successful than Professor Smyth, whether we regard 
the extent of his inquiries, the solidity and directness of his opin- 
ions, or his felicitous manner of representing them. 

His plan restricts him to a general survey, without the detail of 
narrative, or elaborate discussions of complicated and doubtful ques- 
tions, which, however necessary they may sometimes be in a regular 
historical composition, are frequently more cumbersome than con- 
vincing, more tedious than instructive. His work embraces Modern 
History. As preparatory to his main subject, he touches upon the 
period immediately following the downfall of the Roman Empire ; 
the laws, customs, and political state of the barbarous nations of 
Europe ; the principal features of the Mahometan religion, and the 
remarkable events of the Dark Ages. In this outline he confines 
himself to such particulars as mark the progress of civilization and 
open the way to the political organizations of modern Europe, and 
as explain the causes of those vast changes in the affairs of the 
world, which have taken place within the last three hundred years. 
These changes and their consequences are made the theme of his 
subsequent lectures. Proceeding in the same spirit of philosophical 



viii PREFACE TO THE 

analysis, seizing upon the prominent events and pursuing them in 
their natural course and through their intricate combinations, he 
examines under separate heads the history of the European nations. 
Yet the periods and the states which pass in review before him 
are not considered as detached from each other, but as parts of a 
general system having their distinctive relations and uniting to con- 
stitute a whole. 

A large portion of the work is devoted to England, — the origin 
of the British constitution, the vicissitudes it has undergone, the 
dangers it has encountered, the obstacles it has overcome, and the 
means by which it has advanced to be the consolidating principle of 
an empire vast in territory and power. The great struggle which 
long existed between the prerogative and popular claims, before the 
balance was duly adjusted by securing the weight of an efficient Par- 
liament, is fully investigated and clearly explained. The characters 
of British statesmen, and their influence on the history of their coun- 
try and the growth of its institutions, are likewise discussed with a 
freedom and abiUty which clothe the author's remarks on these sub- 
jects with peculiar interest. Nor does he speak of the eminent men 
of other countries with less candor or discrimination, assigning to all 
their just meed of praise or censure, according as they have been 
the benefactors of their race, ambitious demagogues, or the tools of 
despotism. 

Other characteristics of these volumes demand high commenda- 
tion. No writer could be more impartial ; his sentiments are gener- 
ous and liberal ; he is never the blind advocate of a party, nor the 
defender of tortuous measures ; his zeal for favorite opinions, and for 
men whose policy he approves and whose talents he extols, is always 
tempered with moderation and judgment. He does not, like too 
many historians, pass sentence on motives which he has only con- 
jectured, and condemn conduct merely because he cannot discover 
all the reasons by which it has been prompted. He is neither the 
champion of a school nor the slave of a theory ; he never talks of 
optimism or of perfectibility ; he takes facts as they are presented to 
him, analyzes, combines, and compares them without bias or predi- 






FIRST AMERICAN EDITION. ix 

lection, and establishes his conclusions on the basis of truth and 
justice. 

In remarking on forms of government, and the acts of princes, 
statesmen, and military leaders, he is equally free, on the one hand, 
from the narrow prejudice and illiberal invective, and, on the other, 
from the indiscriminate admiration and applause, in which writers of 
less compass of thought and less acuteness of observation are apt 
to indulge. He considers the government best for a people, which, 
when well administered, is best suited to their circumstances, and 
best fitted for securing the prosperity of individuals and the peace 
and tranquillity of the public. While he sternly rebukes all symp- 
toms of despotism, all abuses of power, all encroachments upon 
rights, wherever they appear, he is not bound to a system, nor slow 
to discern the advantages which every system may possess, nor re- 
luctant to bestow praise where it is due. Although friendly to re- 
form, because society is progressive, gathering intelHgence as it ad- 
vances and wisdom from the experience of the past, yet he would 
correct errors gradually and with caution, rather than eradicate 
them by violence ; he would repair, strengthen, and adorn the edi- 
fice, rather than undermine its foundations and triumph over its 
ruins. Systems of government have grown up with time, till they 
have become rooted in the habits, usages, customs, and often the af- 
fections of the people ; to destroy the former would be to derange 
the latter, and to produce misery instead of happiness. Innovation 
is not always improvement ; change may be for the worse, and is 
likely to be so when ill-timed or rashly directed. Revolution is an 
extreme remedy ; it may break the chains of oppression or rivet 
them more strongly, according as it proceeds from just causes and is 
guided by prudence, or as it arises from factious discontent and is 
pushed forward by a reckless disregard of consequences. There are 
evils in all systems, there is good in all ; to correct the one and re- 
tain the other, to infuse into the constitution and laws of a state the 
spirit of each succeeding age, and to adapt them to the increasing 
intelligence and wants of society, should be the policy, as it is the 
duty, of every statesman and legislator. 



X PREFACE TO THE 

Professor Smyth's judicious estimate of the characters of men, his 
liberal construction of their motives, and his indulgence to the in- 
firmities of their nature, are not confined to his political views. His 
benevolence rises to the higher virtue of toleration. Religion has 
been a powerful agent in modem civilization. He weighs with an 
impartial hand the impelling forces which have sprung from this 
source, and assigns them to their appropriate spheres. The enlarge- 
ment of mind, equanimity of temper, and bland moderation, which 
characterize his poUtical investigations, are equally conspicuous here. 
He neither assails modes of faith, nor arraigns the conscience Avhich 
adopts them, nor condemns whole orders of men because they have 
exercised the privilege of thinking for themselves. He makes no 
terms with despotism seeking to disguise itself under the garb of re- 
ligion, or ecclesiastical domination grasping at secular power, or the 
superstition which deludes men into follies and chains them in igno- 
rance, or the fanaticism which breeds disorders and degenerates into 
crime ; but he has a wide mantle of charity for all who show the sin- 
cerity of their belief by the calm and steady- zeal with which they 
adhere to it, and by its benign influence on their lives as members 
of society and practical Christians. Even sectarian extravagance he 
can tolerate, when it avoids persecution, clothes itself with humility, 
and strives to promote peace and concord. He is no dogmatist him- 
self, nor an approver of dogmatism in others, however it may shield 
itself under the imposing name of church or state. On the freedom 
of opinion and speech, which is the birthright of every being who 
can think and talk, he would lay no other restraints than are re- 
quired by public order and the security of individuals. In short, 
although firm in his own sentiments, both in pohtics and religion, 
and maintaining them when occasions oifer, yet his convictions 
neither harden his heart nor pervert his understanding ; they do not 
check the current of his kind feehngs, or darken his perceptions, or 
mislead his ji^dgment. 

These lectures were composed for young men, but they furnish 
nutriment for minds in every stage of culture. It is not one of their 
least merits, that they incite the reader to reflection, at the same 



FIRST AMERICAN EDITION. xi 

time that they supply him with materials and encourage him by ex- 
amples. This is an important use of history, which Professor Smyth 
turns to its best account. A mere knowledge of facts is only the 
first rudiment of instruction, — an effort of memory, and nothing 
more. This knowledge is necessary in studying history, but he who 
proceeds no farther has scarcely entered the vestibule. Facts are 
the germs of profitable knowledge, which the mind must nurture and 
cherish, or they will decay and die. In themselves they are single 
and loosely connected, forming a chain whose links are perpetually^ 
falling asunder. Let them be employed for their legitimate pur- 
poses while fresh and strong ; let the reader seize their fleeting spirit 
and incorporate it with his thoughts ; let him compare and combine, 
reflect and draw conclusions, till impressions are stamped that will 
become part of himself. No branch of study calls more loudly for 
this kind of meditation than that of history, where the transactions 
of men under all imaginable circumstances are laid open, where the 
passions are ever at work, and where the economy of life is seen in 
all its phases and vicissitudes. 

Another feature of this work remains to be mentioned, which con- 
tributes greatly to enhance its value. 

The reader is not only taught how to read history, and what use 
to make of it, but he is at the same time furnished with the best 
guides. The principal authors, both in the English and French 
languages, are brought before him, with such criticisms and explana- 
tions as enable him to understand their design, character, compara- 
tive merits, and the particular periods or subjects to which they re- 
late. Aware of the importance of this part of his plan, the lecturer 
has bestowed upon it special attention, and has thus rendered an in- 
valuable service to all readers of history, who would employ their 
time to the best advantage, and derive instruction from the highest 
sources. He distinguishes books that are only to be consulted from 
those which are to be carefully perused, and, in referring to volumi- 
nous works, he often recommends parts and even single chapters, 
thereby relieving the student from the fruitless toil he would other- 
wise encounter in attempting to select and judge for himself. As a 

b 



xu PREFACE TO THE 

critic, his discernment is quick, his decisions fair and judicious. 
His remarks on the characteristics of Hume as an historian, and on 
the style of Gibbon, are examples in point. His own style is per- 
spicuous and forcible, without elaborate ornament or studied dic- 
tion. 
I But the portion of the work which will be most likely to interest 
/ readers on this side of the Atlantic is the last six lectures, in which 
he speaks of the American Kevolution. No British writer has 
treated this subject with so much candor, or such perfect freedom 
from party feelings and national prejudice ; and it may at least be 
doubted, if any American writer can claim, on this score, a higher 
degree of confidence. The fault of ignorance, so justly ascribed to 
almost all the writers in England who have touched on that event, 
cannot be laid to the charge of Professor Smyth. He has examined 
the American side with no less diligence than the English. He 
has drawn from original fountains, consulted public documents, and 
taken as his guides Washington's ofiicial letters, Marshall, and Ram- 
say, whose authority he respects and in whose representations he 
confides. The causes of the controversy are briefly stated. With- 
out laboring to decide whether these causes justified the measures of 
the British ministry in strictness of law and constitutional right, he 
allows, what is now assented to by all the world, that both ministers 
and people suffered themselves to be led astray by a mistaken policy 
in the first instance, and by national pride to the end of the contest. 
Mild government is a maxim which Professor Smyth inculcates 
throughout his lectures, and which he especially urges upon every 
sovereign power in regard to its colonies or dependent states. This 
maxim is strikingly illustrated by the parallel he draws between the 
Netherlands, shaking off the yoke of Spain, and the American colo- 
nies, asserting and maintaining their independence. The pride of 
Spain was tyrannical, and she lost the Netherlands ; the pride of 
England was blind and obstinate, and she lost her colonies. A httle 
yielding to circumstances would have saved both. It was easy to 
cry out faction, treason, and rebellion, and thus to kindle irritation 
on one side and a rancorous spirit on the other, till the breach was 



FIRST AMERICAN EDITION. xui 

past healing ; but it was not easy to conquer a people borne down 
by wrongs which they were determined to redress. Their hearts 
might have been subdued and their affections won, not by coercion 
and harshness, but by mild treatment and a due regard to their 
rights. This truth, deduced from the two cases in question, is con- 
firmed by so many examples in history, that rulers might long ago 
have learned from it a practical lesson of policy and interest, to say 
nothing of wisdom and duty. 

The conduct of both parties in carrying on the American war is 
freely canvassed by the author. He finds little to praise in the 
British counsels, and some things to blame in those of the Ameri- 
cans. He wonders, and rightly enough, that there should be so 
much patriotism in passing resolves and publishing addresses, and so 
little in paying taxes and furnishing supplies for the army. He is 
surprised at the readiness to contract debts for the pubUc benefit, 
and at the reluctance to recognize and provide for them. The sol- 
diers, who had fought the battles and secured the freedom of their 
country, were dismissed and sent home without even a promise that 
they should be paid. But he justly accounts for these inconsis- 
tencies, and some others, by the weakness of the executive power. 
Congress could debate, resolve, and recommend, and here their 
functions ended. As an executive body they were feeble, in fact 
powerless, in regard to the most important objects of government. 
Nevertheless, it argues much for the virtue of the people, that they 
could sustain a war for so long a time under such a system. It 
argues more ; it proves the strength of principle with which they 
were united, and a deep-rooted conviction of the justice of their 
cause, that they could be roused to such efforts and sacrifices 
through years of conflict, privation, and suffering. 

The American patriots were not merely lovers of their country, 
they were lovers of mankind. Their ideas of Hberty were not those 
of license or insubordination ; nor did they regard this liberty as a 
conventional privilege, which a supreme power, however organized, 
might grant or withliold at its option. They beheved it to be an 
element in the constitution of man, which he has a ridit to claim and 



xlv PREFACE TO FIRST AMERICAN EDITION. 

exercise for liis own well-being. Men may agree how they will ex- 
ercise it for the good of each other and of the whole. The old gov- 
ernments of Europe have turned it to the advantage of a few at the 
expense of the many. Liberty with them is fidehty to existing 
establishments. This may be all that the people desire, or all that 
they can bear, in the present state of things. The Americans found 
themselves in a condition to enjoy more ; they had increased in num- 
bers and grown strong on the soil of freedom ; their habits of thought 
and of action had partaken of its spirit ; and when they perceived 
the coils of a distant and irresponsible power gradually drawn 
tighter and tighter around them, it was natural that they should 
struggle to release themselves, and provide for their future inde- 
pendence and safety. 

It is not inferred that Professor Smyth would agree to these senti- 
ments in their full latitude. He thinks the British system, with its 
nicely balanced checks of King, Lords, and Commons, on the whole 
better adapted to the gi-owth and durability of a great power, and to 
the preservation of the people's liberties, than any that has yet been 
tried. But he is not an enemy to repubhcs, when placed on their 
proper footing ; and he would have the experiment fairly carried out 
in America, especially as it has commenced under auspices entirely 
different from those which have proved abortive in the Old World. 
At all events, he is entitled to the thanks of Americans for the pains 
he has bestowed in describing their contest for liberty, and the im- 
partiality and generous spirit with which he has accomplished what 
he has undertaken. If errors can be discovered, they are not those 
of negligence, a narrow mind, or a biased judgment. His char- 
acter of Washington, sketched near the end of his work, is happily 
conceived and well delineated. In short, it would be difficult to find 
any treatise on the American Revolution, comprised within the com- 
pass of his six lectures, from which so much can be learned, or so ac- 
curate an estimate of the merits of both sides of the question can be 
formed. 

J. S. 
Cambridge, October 6th, 1841. 



NOTE 



THE THIRD AMERICAN EDITION. 



In the present edition of these Lectures, it has been attempted 
to supply in some measure the want of that editorial care which 
the author himself, in consequence, as it is understood, of impaired 
sight, was unfortunately prevented from bestowing on them. 

The variations from the former editions, resulting from the re- 
vision here undertaken, are briefly the following. 

Where necessary to bring out the divisions of a subject distinctly, 
or to indicate a transition, or to give the proper continuity to a 
course of reasoning or remark, paragraphs have been divided or 
united, according to the nature of the case, — but in no instance 
have they been transposed. 

Quotations, found on collation to be inexact, have been conformed 
to the text of the original authorities, except in a few instances 
where these could not be ascertained or were inaccessible, — and 
in some others, where it appeared to be the Lecturer's intention 
merely to give a condensed statement of the substance of a passage. 

Inaccurate or defective references to authorities, and any errors 
as to matters of fact which have been incidentally observed, are 
pointed out in the marginal notes. 

Obvious faults in punctuation and grammar have of course been 
corrected. 

The Notes, which in the former editions are subjoined to several 
of the Lectures, are here, for greater convenience, brought together 
at the end of the volume. 

J* 



XVI NOTE. 

The matters appended to the former American editions are re- 
printed with some modifications ; — the List of Books relating to the 
History of the United States, with a few additions by the original 
compiler ; the Chronological Table of Events and the Index, slight- 
ly amended. The Tables of Contemporary European Sovereigns, 
taken from Sir Harris Nicolas's " Chronology of History," have 
been found, on a critical examination, to be constructed with little 
of their author's usual accuracy ; they have accordingly been care- 
fully revised throughout, — principally with the aid of the leading 
authority in this department, " L'Art de verifier les Dates," in the 
octavo edition of 1818 - 37. The Table of Sovereigns of the Lesser 
European States, which in the original commences with the year 
1G99, is here, for the convenience of the student, carried back two 
centuries; while, both in this and in the principal Table, the portions 
embracing the present century are omitted, as unnecessary to the 

illustration of the Lectures. 

G. N. 

University Press, Cambridge, Mass. 
July 21, 1849. 



TO 



HENRY, MARQUIS OF LANSDOWNE. 

My Lord, — 

You have been always distinguished for your sympathy Avith the 
welfare of your fellow-creatures, of whatever country; for your 
ready patronage of every art, science, or institution, contributing 
to the embellishment, or advancing the interests, of the community ; 
for welcoming to the hospitality of your splendid mansion every 
man, whether native or foreigner, who could be supposed to have 
any merit deserving of your attention : it has therefore been always 
a source of pride to me, to have owed my Professorship to your 
Lordship's favorable opinion ; and these Lectures, the result of my 
appointment, are now dedicated to your Lordship, with every senti- 
ment of affection, gratitude, and respect. 

WILLIAM SMYTH. 

St. Peter's College, Cambridge, 
Nov., 1839. 



ADVERTISEMENT. 



The following Lectures were drawn up to be delivered to a youth- 
ful audience, at an English University, voluntarily assembled. 

The reader is requested never to lose sight of this particular cir- 
cumstance, — they were to be Ustened to, not read ; they are now 
pubhshed in the hope that they may be useful to others, at a similar 
period of life. 

Minute historical disquisition or research cannot be expected in 
compositions of this nature : what the author has hoped to accomplish 
will be found explained in the Introductory Lecture ; and the maxim 
of the poet seems but equitable, — 

" In every work regard the writer's end, 
Since none can compass more than they intend." 



CONTENTS. 







PAGE 


Introductory Lecture ...... 


1 


Lecture L 


Barbarians and Romans .... 


19 


II. 


Laws of the Barbarians .... 


. 31 


in. 


Mahomet. — Progress of Society. — Gibbon 


48 


IV. 


The Dark Ages ..... 


. 66 


V. 


England ...... 


80 


VI. 


England ...... 


. 101 


VII. 


France ...... 


119 


VIII. 


Spain, Italy, Germany, Switzerland . 


. 134 


IX. 


The Reformation ..... 


149 ' 


X. 


The Reformation ..... 


. 163 1 


XI. 


France. — Civil and Religious Wars 


182 1 


XIL 


Henry the Fourth, and the Low Countries 


. 199 • 


XIII. 


The Thirty Years' War .... 


216 • 


XIV. 


Henry the Eighth. — Elizabeth. — James the First. — 


Charles the 




First ...... 


232 


XV. 


Charles the First ..... 


. 253 


XVL 


The Civil War ..... 


268 


XVII. 


Cromwell. — Monk. — The Regicides, etc. . 


. 283 ) 


xvm. 


Charles the Second .... 


301 


XIX. 


Charles the Second ..... 


. 319 


XX. 


James the Second. — The Revolution 


333 ) 


XXI. 


East and West Indies ..... 


. 356 


XXII. 


William the Third 


373 • 


XXIII. 


Anne ....... 


. 392 


XXIV. 


Anne ...... 


409 


XXV. 


Anne. — Union of England and Scotland 


. 429 


XXVI. 


Sir Robert Walpole .... 


450 


xxvri. 


Law. — Mississippi Scheme. — South-Sea Bubble, etc. 


. 470 I 


XXVIIL 


George the Second. — Pelham. — Rebellion of 1745, et( 


I. . 488 


XXIX. 


Prussia and Maria Theresa .... 


. 509 > 


XXX. 


George the Third ..... 


527 



xxu CONTENTS. 

Lecture XXXI. American War . . . . . . .547 

XXXII. American War ...... 570 

XXXni. American War . . . , . . .589 

XXXIV. American War ...... 610 

XXXV. American War . . . . . , . 627 3 

XXXVI. American War ...... 643 



Notes .......... 667 

List of Books on Modern History ..... 708 

List of Books on American History . . . . .716 

Chronological Table ....... 720 

Table of Contemporary Sovereigns ..... 723 

Index .......... 731 



LECTURES 



ON 



MODERN HISTORY 



INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 

1809. 

I MUST avail myself of the privilege of a prefatory address to enter 
into some explanations with respect to the lectures I am going to 
deliver, which could not well find a place in the lectures themselves. 
I must mention to jou the plan upon which they are drawn up. 
And I think it hest to give you at once the history of my own 
thoughts in formmg this plan, because such a detail will serve to 
display the general nature of the study in which you are now to 
engage, and -^-ill lead to observations that may afford to these lec- 
tures their best chance of being useful. 

My first impressions, then, ^vith respect to a scheme for Lectures 
on Modern History, were these: — That, in the first place, all detail, 
all narrative, were impossible. That the great subject before me was 
the situation of Europe in different periods of these later ages, — the 
progress of the human mind, of hviman society, of human happiness, 
of the intellectual character of the species, for the last fifteen centu- 
ries. Every thing, therefore, of a temporary nature was to be ex- 
cluded, — all more particular and local history, — all peculiar delin- 
eations of characters, revolutions, and events, that concerned not the 
general interests of mankind. That the history of France, or Spain, 
or England was not to be considered separately and distinctly, but 
only in conjunction, each with the other ; each, only as it affected bv 
its relations the great community of Europe. That, in sliort, such 
occurrences only were to be mentioned, as indicated the character of 
the times, — such changes only, as left permanent effects. That a 
summary, an estimate of human nature, as it had shown itself, since 
the fall of the Roman Empire, on the great theatre of the civilized 
part of the world, was, if possible, to be given. 

1 A 



2 INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 

I must confess that tliis still appears to me to be the genuine and 
proper idea of a course of lectures on modern history. But to this 
plan the obvious objection Avas its extent and its difficulty. The 
great Lord Bacon did not find himself unworthily employed, when he 
was considering the existing situation, and contemplating the future 
advancement, of human learning ; but to look back vipon the world 
and to consider the different movements of different nations, whether 
retrograde or in advance, and to state the progress of the whole from 
time to time, as resulting from the combined effect of the failures and 
successes of all the parts, — to attempt this is to attempt more than 
was effected even by the enterprising mind of Bacon ; for it is to 
appreciate the facts as well as to exhibit the theory of human soci- 
ety, — to weigh in the balance the conduct as well as the intelligence 
of mankind, — and to extend to the religion, legislation, and policy of 
states, and to the infinitely diversified subject of their political happi- 
ness, the same inquiry, criticism, and speculation wliich the "wisest 
and brightest of mankind had been content to extend only to the 
more particular theme of human knowledge. 

Such were the first impressions produced upon my mind by the 
plan that had thus occurred to me. It is very true, that, when they 
had somewhat subsided, I became sufficiently aware that objections 
like these must not be urged too far ; that a plan might be very 
imperfectly executed, and yet answer many of its original purposes, 
as far as the instruction of the hearer was concerned, and that this 
was, on the whole, sufficient, — the effect upon the hearer being the 
point of real consequence, not the literary failures or successes of 
the lectiu-er. 

This scheme of lectures, however,! have not adopted ; for, though 
I might fairly have been permitted to execute it in a slight and in- 
adequate manner, I was persuaded that lectures would be expected 
from me in this place long before I could have attempted to execute 
it in any manner, however imperfect and inadequate to my wishes. 
Having mentioned this reason, it is unnecessary to mention others 
which midit also have induced me to fonn the same resolution. 

But a plan of this sort, though rejected by me as a lecturer, should 
always be present to you as readers of history. By no other means 
can you derive the full benefit that may and should be derived from 
the annals of the past. Large and comprehensive views, — the con- 
nection of causes and effects, — the steady, though often slow, and, 
at the time, unperceived influence of general principles, — habits of 
calm speculation, of foresight, of deliberative and providing wisdom, 
— these are the lessons of instruction, and these the best advantages, 
to be gained by the contemplation of history ; and it is to these that 
the ambition of an historical student should be at all events directed. 

The next scheme of lectures that occurred to me was to take par- 
ticular periods of history, and to review and estimate several of them. 



INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 3 

if possible, ill a connected manner ; the period, for instance, of the 
Dark Ages, of the Revival of Learning, of the Reformation, of the 
Religious AVars, of the power and enterprises of Louis the Fourteenth, 
of the prosperity of Europe towards the close of the last century. 
These periods could not be described and examined without convey- 
ing to the hearer a very full impression, not only of the leading 
events, but of the general meaning and importance, of modern his- 
tory. All the proper purposes of a system of lectures would be, 
therefore, by these means, very sufficiently answered ; and, as the 
plan is somewhat confined and brought witliin a definite compass, it 
has the important merit of being practicable. 

But, after some deliberation, this plan, also, I have thought it best 
to reject ; chiefly because to attempt it would be rather to attempt 
to write a book, than to give lectures. I do not say that those pages 
which now make a good book can ever have made bad lectures. But 
a lecture is, after all, not a book ; and the question is, whether the 
same lecturer might not have improved liis hearers more by a less 
elaborate mode of address. 

Listead, then, of endeavouring to draw up any general history of 
Europe since the overthrow of the Roman Empire in the West, and 
instead of attempting any discussion of different periods under the 
form of regular treatises, I at last thought it best to fix my atten- 
tion on my hearers only, and to confine my efforts to one point. The 
object, therefore, which I have selected is this, — to endeavour to 
assist my hearers in reading history for themselves. 

Now this plan of lectures, simple as it may at first appear, will be 
found to comprehend a task of more than sufficient difficulty for me, 
and be very adequate, as I conceive, to all the purposes which lec- 
tures can attempt to accomplish for you. 

For, with respect to myself, what must be the province allotted to 
me ? I must prefer one book to another, and must have reasons for 
my preference, and must therefore read and examine many. In the 
next place, I must, from the endless detail of European transactions, 
direct the attention of my hearers to such particular trains in these 
transactions, as will, on the whole, give, if possible, a general and 
commanding view of the great subjects of modern history. This 
cannot be attempted by me without meditating the whole, and con- 
sidering the relations of all the different parts with great care and 
patience. Lastly, I must endeavour, if I can, to state why particu- 
lar periods or characters in history have become interesting, and to 
convey some portion of that interest to my hearers. 

Such are the objects which I have selected as the fittest to excite 
my own -wishes and engage my own labors. 

What, in the mean time, is to be the task that is to devolve upon 
you ? It must be for you to carry with you into your own studies 
the ad\'ice I have offered, the criticisms I have made, the moral sym- 



4 mXRODUCTORY LECTURE. 

pathies, the political principles, by wliich I appear to have been 
myself affected ; and these must, all of them, become the topics of 
your own reflection and examination. 

It is, therefore, already evident, that we have, each of us, in our 
several provinces, enough to perform, if we do but endeavour to dis- 
charge with proper diligence and ardor the several duties that belong 
to us. 

Turning, now, from the consideration of the plan of the lectures, to 
the mode in which I have endeavoured to execute it, as my object 
was to assist my hearers in reading history for themselves, my first 
inquiry was this : — What course of historical reading it would be 
fittest to recommend, — what were the books, and how were they to 
be read ? 

The first direction of a student's mind would be, I knew, to have 
recourse to general Jiistories, to summaries and abridgments of his- 
tory; for in this manner it would naturally be thought that the 
greatest possible historical information might be procured with the 
least possible exertion. I therefore devoted a considerable portion 
of time to the General History of Voltaire, the Modern History of 
Russell, and to the French General Histoi-y by the Chevaher Mehe- 
gan ; all works of merit and reputation ; the first and last of great 
celebrity. 

The first ad\dce, then, wliich I shall take upon me to give, as the 
result of my experience, is this : — not to read general histories and 
abridgments of history, as a more summary method of acquiring his- 
torical knowledge. There is no summary method of acquiring knowl- 
edge. Abridgments of history have their use ; but tliis is not their 
use, Jior can be. '\^^len the detail is tolerably known, the summary 
can then be understood, but not before. Summaries may always 
serve, most usefuUy, to revive the knowledge that has been before 
acquired, may throw it into proper shapes and proportions, and leave 
it in this state upon the memory, to supply the materials of subse- 
quent reflection. But general histories, if they are read first, and 
before the particular history is known, are a sort of chain of which 
the links seem not connected ; contain representations and state- 
ments which cannot be understood, and therefore cannot be remem- 
bered ; and exhibit to the mind a succession of objects and images, 
each of which appears and retires too rapidly to be surveyed, and, 
when the whole vision has passed by, as soon it does, scarcely a trace 
of it is found to remain. Were I to look from an eminence over a 
country which I had never before seen, I should discover only the 
principal objects, — the villa, the stream, the lawn, or the wood. 
But if the landscape before me had been the scene of my childhood 
or lately of my residence, every object would bring along with it all 
its attendant associations, and the picture that was presented to the 
eye would be the least part of the impression that was received by 



INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 5 

the mind. Such is the difference between reading general histories 
before, or after, the particuhir histories to which they refer. 

I must not, indeed, omit to observe, that there are some parts of 
histoi-j so obscure and of so little importance, that general accounts 
of them are all that can either be expected or required. Abridg- 
ments and general histories must here be used. Not that much 
can be thus received, but that much is not wanted, and that what 
little is necessary may be thus obtained. 

I must also confess that general histories may in like manner be 
resorted to for the purpose of acquiring a general notion of the great 
leading features of any particular liistory ; they may be to the stu- 
dent what maps are to the traveller, and give an idea of the nature 
of the country, and of the magnitude and situation of the towns, 
through which he is to pass ; they may teach him what he is to ex- 
pect, and at what points he is to be the most dihgent in his inquiries. 
Viewed in this light, general histories may be considered as of great 
imj)ortance, and that even before the perusal of the particular his- 
tories to which they refer ; but they must never be resorted to, ex- 
cept in the instances and for the purposes just mentioned, — they 
must not be used as substitutes for more minute and regular histories, 
not as short methods of acquiring knowledge. They are meant to 
give, and they may most usefully give, commanding views, compre- 
hensive estimates, general impressions ; but these cannot supersede 
that labor which must be endured by all those who would possess 
themselves of mformation. 

If, therefore, general histories and summaries of history are not to 
be read as a short way of acquiring historical knowledge, and if his- 
tory, when it is of importance, must be read in the detail, a most 
melancholy prospect immediately presents itself; for the books of 
historical detail, the volumes which constitute modern history, are 
innumerable ; Alps on Alps arise. Tliis is a difficulty of all others 
the most invincible and embarrassing. I must endeavour to consider 
it with all possible attention. 

The great authority on a subject hke this is Dufrcsnoy, — Dufrcs- 
noy's Chronology. After laying down a course of historical reading, 
such as he conceives indispensably necessary and quite practicable, 
he calmly ol)serves that the time which it is to take up is ten years ; 
and this, too, upon a supposition, that much more of every day is 
to be occupied with study than can possibly be expected, and that 
many more pages shall be read in the twenty-four hours than can 
possibly be reflected upon. 

I remember to have heard that a man of literature and great 
historical reading had once been speaking of the great French his- 
torian Tliuanus in those terms of commendation which it was natural 
for him to employ, when alluding to a work of such extraordinary 
merit. A youth who had listened to him, with all the laudable ardor 

A* 



6 INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 

of his particular time of life, had no sooner retired from his company 
than he instantly sent for Thuanus, resoMng to begin immediately 
the perusal of a performance so celebrated, and from that moment to 
become a reader of history. Thuanus was brought to him, — seven 
folio volumes. Ardent as was the student, surprise was soon suc- 
ceeded by total and irremediable despair. Art was indeed too long, 
he must have thought, and life too short, if such was to be his en- 
trance to knowledge, and not indeed to knowledge, but to one de- 
partment among many others of human inquiry. 

Now this effect was certainly not the effect which was intended. 
All risk of any event like this must be most carefully avoided. And, 
on the whole, it is sufficiently evident, that any lecturer in history 
cannot be better employed than in studpng how to render the course 
of reading which he proposes as short, that is, as practicable, as it 
can possibly be made, — such as, amid the natm-al occupations of 
human life, may be accomplished. It is in vain to recommend to 
the generahty of readers books which it might be the labor of years 
to peruse ; they will certainly not be perused ; and the lecturer, 
while he conceives that he has discharged his office, has only made 
the mistake so natural to his situation, that of supposing that there 
is no art, or science, or species of knowledge in existence, but the 
one he professes, and that his audience are, like himself, to be almost 
exclusively occupied in its consideration. 

But evils are more easily described than remedied. What is in 
this case to be done ? Are the great writers of history not to be 
read ? What is the study of history but the reading of them ? 

The first object, therefore, of my anxieties, in consequence of this 
difficulty, has been, through the whole of my lectures, to recommend, 
not as many books as the subject admitted of, but as few. And I 
am the more at ease while I do this, because the best authors in 
every different part of history have their margins crowded with 
references to other books and to original authorities ; and such 
readers as are called upon to study any particular point or period 
of history more minutely than can in general be necessary need be 
at no loss for proper materials on which to exercise their diligence, 
and cannot want to receive from me an enumeration of those refer- 
ences and means of information which they can in this mamier so 
readily find. 

But I have ventured to do more than this ; for I have not only 
recommended as few books as possible, but I have recommended 
only parts of books, and sometimes only a few pages in a volume. 

This, it will be said, is surely a supei-ficial way of reading history. 
"Wliat can be known of a book, when only a part is read ? This is 
not the manner in which subjects were studied by our ancestors, the 
scholars of other times. But there were giants in those days, it will 
be added, and we are but a puny race of sciolists, who cannot, it 



INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 7 

seems, find leisure enough even to peruse, much less to rival, the 
works which their labors have transmitted for our instruction. 

I mean not to deny that there is considerable weight in this objec- 
tion ; and nothing iDut the intolerable perplexity of the case, its 
insurmountable difficulty, the impossibihty of adopting any other 
course, would ever have induced me to propose to students to read 
books in parts ; but I must repeat it, that human life does not now 
admit of any other expedient, and the alternative to which we are 
reduced, in plam truth, is this, — either to read books of history in 
this manner, or not to read them at all. 

He knows little of human learning or of himself who venerates not 
the scholars of former times, the great intellectual laborers that have 
preceded us. It would be an ill interpretation, indeed, of what I 
shall recommend, if it be concluded, that, because I think their 
volumes are often to be read in parts only, I do so from the slightest 
feeling of disrespect to authors hke these, or to the great literary 
works that they have so meritoriously accomplished. But the con- 
dition of society is continually changing, and the situation of our 
ancestors is no longer ours. In no respect has it altered more than 
in the interior economy of the management of time, more especially 
of a student's time. Avenues of inquiry and knowledge have been 
opened to \is, that were to them unknown. The regions of science, 
for instance, may be considered as a world lately found, hitherto but 
partially explored, and in itself inexhaustible. What are we to say, 
in like manner, of the avocations, and even amusements, of social hfe, 
which have everyrvhere been multiplied by the growing prosperity of 
mankind, — many of them not only mtellectual, but intellectual in 
the highest sense of the word ? The patient and solitary student 
can never be a character Avithout its value and respectabihty ; but 
the character can no longer be met with, as it once was, now that 
the genius of men is attracted to the inventions of art, the discoveries 
of science, and the various prizes of affluence and of honor, that are 
more and more held up to ambition, as a country more and more im- 
proves in civilization and prospei'ity. 

There is another consideration which must not be forgotten, when 
this method which I have mentioned, of reading books in parts, is 
considered. Literature, hke society, advances step by step. Every 
treatise and book of value contains some particular part that is of 
more value than the rest, — something by which it has added to the 
general stock of human knowledge or entertainment, — something 
on account of which it was more particularly read and admired while 
a new book, and on account of which it continues to be read and 
admired while an old one. Now it is these different portions of 
every different volume, that united form the effective hterature or 
knowledge of every ci\dhzed nation, and, when collected from the 
different languages of Europe, the literature and knowledge of the 



8 INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 

most civilized portion of mankind. It is bj tliese parts of more 
peculiar and original merit, that tliese volumes are known. It is 
these to which every man of matured talents and finished education 
alone adverts. It is these which he endeavours chiefly to remember. 
It is these that make up the treasures, and constitute the capital, as 
as it were, of his mind. The remainder of each volume is but that 
subordinate portion which has no value but as connected Avith the 
other, and is often made up of those errors and imperfections which 
are, in fact, the inseparable attendants of every human production, 
which are observed and avoided by every writer or reasoner who fol- 
lows, and which gradually become ■ in one age only the exploded 
characteristics of another. It is thus that human knowledge be- 
comes progressive, and that the general intelligence of society gains 
a new station in advance, from the reiterated impulses of each suc- 
ceeding mind. 

It therefore by no means follows, when books are read in parts, 
that they are therefore read superficially. " Some books," says my 
Lord Bacon, " are to be tasted, some few to be chewed and digested : 
that is, some books are to be read only in parts ; others to be read, 
but not curiously ; and some few to be read wholly, and with dihgence 
and attention." The same may be pretty generally said of the dif- 
ferent portions of the same work. Much care and circumspection 
must undoubtedly be used in selecting and discriminating the parts 
to be tasted, to be chewed, and to be digested. The more youthful 
the mind, the less skilful will be the choice, and the more hazardous 
the privilege, thus allowed, of reading pages by a glance and chapters 
by a table of contents. But the mind, after some failures and some 
experience, will materially improve in this great and necessary art, — 
the art of reading much, while reading little. Now, if there be any 
department of human inquiry into which this very dehcate, difficult, 
and dangerous mode of reading may be introduced, it is surely that 
of history. Whatever may be thought of books of science or of 
knowledge, in books of history, at least, there is every variety in the 
importance of different passages. Neither events, nor characters, 
nor periods of time are at all the same or of equal consequence. 
Nor are the writers of like merit with each other, or of like authority ; 
nor have they written with the same views, nor are they to be consults 
ed for the same purposes. There is ample room, therefore, for the 
exercise of judgment in the preference we give to one writer above 
another, and in the different degrees of attention which we exercise 
upon one event, or character, or era, rather than another ; and as 
the powers as well as the opportunities of the human mind are 
bounded, it behooves us well to consider what is the nature of the 
burden we impose upon our faculties ; for, assuredly, he who is very 
anxious to load his memory with much will in general have little 
which in the hour of need he can produce, and still less of which his 
understanding has ascertained the value. 



INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 9 

Such are the considerations by which I have been reconciled to 
the modes I have proposed, of strugghng with the difficulties I have 
described. 

Before I proceed, I must turn aside for a moment to say one 
word, in the way of digression, upon this most important subject of 
memory. 

It cannot but be supposed that he who reads and retains the most 
will always have a superiority over those whose talents or diligence 
are, in truth, inferior. But this only renders it a point of prudence 
the more pressing upon every man to inform himself thoroughly of 
the nature of his owa. capacity, particularly of his memory, and to 
provide accordingly. It is peculiarly so on an historical student. 
After having considered what he may pass over slightly and what" he 
must regularly read, he may next consider what he is to remember 
minutely, what generally, and what, for the purpose of remembering 
better things, he may suffer himself to think of no more. 

Now what I would wish to suggest to my hearers, more especially 
to those who§e memories are either of a common or of an inferior 
description, is this, — that general impressions, that general recol- 
lections, are of far greater importance than might be at first sup- 
posed. General impressions will enable us to treasure up in our 
minds all the great leading lessons, all the philosophy, of history. 
General impressions are quite sufficient to suggest the similarity of 
cases. They will, therefore, always enable a reader of history to 
conjecture with sufficient accuracy whether the details, if referred to, 
would, on any given occasion, be of importance. General impressions 
are sufficient to prevent us from making positive mistakes ourselves, 
and even from suffering them to be made by others. We are aware 
that there is something which we have read on the point at issue, 
though we do not precisely recollect it. But the apprehension that 
is left on the mind, obscure and imperfect as it may be, still suffers 
a sort of violence, when any statement positively inaccurate is pre- 
sented to it. We, at least, suspend our judgment. We require that 
the question may not be determined till after proper examination. 

General impressions, indeed, will not furnish a reasoner in conver- 
sation, an advocate at the bar, or a debater in Parliament, with 
proper authorities, at the very moment of need, to establish his state- 
ments and illustrate his arguments, or with all the proper materials 
of wit and eloquence. A weak memory can never afford to its pos- 
sessor the advantages which result from a memory capacious and re- 
tentive ; yet may it still be very adequate, by careful management, 
to many of the most useful purposes of reflection and study ; it may 
still enable a man to benefit himself and to administer to the instruc- 
tion of others. 

And now, before I turn away from this particular part of my pref- 
atory address, I must confess to you, that, after all the expedients 



10 INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 

I have resorted to for the purpose of abridging your labors, I am 
well aware that many of you will still be disheartened and repelled 
by the number of books which you will hear me quote and refer to, 
before my lectures are brought to a conclusion. I must, therefore, 
enter still further into detail, and call your attention to the syllabus 
which I have drawn up, and which you can hereafter consult. 

You will there observe, in the first place, a course of reading 
pointed out, so short, that it would be quite improper to suppose that 
the most indolent or the most busy among you cannot now or here- 
after accomplish it. This first course, as you will see by attending 
to the notes, may be enlarged into a second ; this again into a third. 
In this manner I have endeavoured to provide for every difierent case 
that may exist among you. You have three diiferent courses exhib- 
ited to you. 

But with respect to the remainder of the syllabus and the number 
of books mentioned in the lectures, which may be considered as the 
fourth and last course, you will see, on a little reflection, that it is fit 
you should not only read any particular shorter course, "but hear and 
understand what may be found m one still larger, even if you should 
not be likely hereafter to attempt it. Your time will not be entirely 
throAvn away while you are listening to the references I make and the 
desci-iptions I give, even though you should not always turn to the 
particular books and passages I thus recommend . You will at least 
know, after a certain indistinct manner, what history is, — and this is 
the great use of all public lectures ; for public lectures may give you 
a general idea of any science or subject, but can never, of themselves, 
do much more, — they can never put you in possession of it. Add 
to this, that of the whole of this last and most extended course, thus 
presented in these lectures to your curiosity, you may read mmutely 
any parts that may more particularly interest you, and not others, — 
the Reformation, for instance, or the great struggle in the times of 
Charles the First. Do not, therefore, be alarmed, any of you, when 
you see and hear the number of books I may refer you to. 

Finally, I must take upon myself to assure you, that, if you show 
the syllabus to any man of letters, or any real student of the history 
of this or other countries, you will hear him only expressing his sur- 
prise that such and such books, which he will mention, are omitted, 
and that such and such portions of history (of India, for instance, or 
Ireland) are not even so much as alluded to. Beheve me, he will 
not blame your lecturer for having offered too much to your curiosity. 
He will i-ather suppose him not sufficiently aware of all the proper 
objects of historical inquiry. Men of letters and real statesmen 
never cease to read history, as they never cease to occupy them- 
selves in every different department of elegant and useful hterature. 
Reading and reflection become with them a business and a pleasm-e, 
ceasing but with their hves. 



INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 11 

Ha\ang thus endeavoured to give you some idea of the object of 
these lectures, and the general manner in which they are to be con- 
ducted, I must now say a word with respect to their extent. It had 
not been my original intention to bring them down lower than the 
breaking out of the French Revolution ; at that memorable jjoriod, 
modern history appeared to begin anew, and I long remained in the 
persuasion, that my successors, not to speak of myself, would for 
some time scarcely find it within their competence to undertake an 
estimate of this tremendous event, — its origin, its progress, and its 
consequences. I had therefore always bounded my plan by the 
American Revolution ; and, after executing what I had thus proposed 
to myself as a proper object of my labor, I remained for some few 
years without making any further attempt. At last I thought it my 
duty to endeavour to go on. But, even in executing my first original 
plan, my progress was slow. I had many books to read and exam- 
ine, to ascertain whether they were to be recommended or not, 
whether to a certain extent, whether at all. Much of my labor can 
never appear in any positive shape, and will chiefly operate in saving 
my hearers from that very occupation of time which has so inter- 
rupted the advance of my own exertions. I may point out to others, 
as paths to be avoided, paths where I have myself wandered in vain, 
and Avhence I have returned fatigued and disappointed. 

Thus much with respect to the object, the method, and the extent 
of my lectures. 

And now I must call the attention of my hearers to a difficulty 
which belongs to all public lectures on history, and which I conceive 
to be of considerable importance. It is this. A lecturer must refer 
sometimes to books which have not been read at all by his hearers, 
and perpetually to those that have not been read lately or mth very 
minute attention. He must presuppose a knowledge w^hicli has not 
been acquired, or not retained. He must, therefore, often make 
remarks which cannot be judged of, deliver sentiments and opinions 
which must necessarily be unintelligible, and make frequent allusions 
which cannot be felt or comprehended by those whom he addresses. 
The truth is, that a lecturer arranges and writes do^^^l what he has 
to deliver while full of his subject, ^ith all the infomiation he can 
collect fresh and present to his mind ; and he then approaches his 
hearers, who have in the mean time undertaken no labor of the kind, 
and are furnished with no equal advantages. The lecturer is in one 
situation, and the hearer in another. And this is the reason why 
lectures on the subject of history must always be found, at the time 
of delivery, more or less inefficient, and therefore unsatisfactory, — 
Avhy tliey must even be listened to with difficulty, certainly not with- 
out an almost continued effi)rt of gratuitous attention. 

I by no means suppose that I have avoided this very serious diffi- 
culty ; on the contrary, it is one wliich must belong to every system 



12 INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 

of lectures, and which I conceive both my hearers and myself will 
have constantly to struggle Avith. I have selected, for instance, dif- 
ferent books, and different parts of the same book, for the student's 
consideration ; and the reasons of my preference, though I give 
them, cannot be estimated by my hearers, till the references I pro- 
pose have been made. Again, I have directed my attention more 
particularly to some portions of the history of Europe than to others ; 
but, while I am delivering those general remarks to which they 
have given occasion in my own mind, I cannot suppose that the 
details on which those remarks are founded can be present to my 
hearers, or, therefore, that my remarks can be properly understood : 
the details not being known, the interest which such details have 
excited in me can never be conveyed by me to those who hear me ; 
for it is only by the actual perusal of circumstances and facts that 
interest can be excited : curiosity, indeed, may be raised by a gen- 
eral description, but httle more. Add to this, that when any par- 
ticular topic connected with history, or any particular period in the 
history of any country, has been well considered by any writer or 
historian, I have thought it better to refer to the author than to in- 
corporate his observations into my own lectures. A blank will there- 
fore be repeatedly left, as I proceed, in the mind of my hearer, 
though it may have been filled up in my own ; and this interval in 
the train of events or topics presented to him must remain unoccu- 
pied, and the whole chain be left imperfect, till all the different links 
have been regularly supplied by his own subsequent diligence. 

Inconveniences like these I have found myself totally unable to 
remedy ; and as they will operate as unfavorably to me as to you, we 
must each be content to compound mth them in the best manner we 
can, and limit our mvitual expectations to what is practicable : such 
attention as you can furnish, I must be happy to receive ; and you 
must on your part endeavour to listen to me, on the supposition that 
what you hear, whether now entirely comprehended or not, will be 
applicable, if remembered, to your own reading hereafter, and there- 
fore possibly of benefit. 

There is one point, however, which is so material, that, though I 
have alluded to it before, I must again recall it to your attention. It 
is this, — that my hearers are to resort to me, not to receive historical 
knowledge, but to receive hints that may be of use to them while 
they are endeavouring to acquire it for themselves. The great use, 
end, and triumph of all lectures is to excite and teach the hearer to 
become afterwards a lecturer to himself, — to facilitate his progress, 
perhaps to shorten his course, — to ampfify his views, — to make 
liim advance to a subject, if possible, in the united character of a 
master and a scholar. A hearer is not to sit passive, and to expect 
to see performed for him those tasks which he only can perform for 
himself. It is from a mistake of this nature that they who attend 



INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 13 

public lectures often retire from them with strong sensations of dis- 
appointment. They have sought impossibilities. They who listen 
to lectures must be content to become wise, only as men can become 
wise, — by the exercise, the discipline, the warfare, and the fatigue 
of their own faculties, amid labors to be endured and difficulties to 
be surmounted. The temple of wisdom, like that of virtue, must be 
placed on an eminence. 

Having now endeavoured to explain the design, the method, and 
the extent of my lectures, and to state the difficulties which my 
hearer and myself will have mutually to encounter, it may be neces- 
sary to make some observations on the end and use, not, indeed, of 
lectures in history, but of history itself. 

Curiosity is natural, and therefore history will always be read ; 
and as he who has any thing to relate becomes immediately of im- 
portance to others and to himself, history will always be written. 

History is a source of pleasure ; a piece of history is at least a 
sort of superior novel ; it is at least a story, and often a busy one ; 
it has its heroes and its catastrophes ; it can engage attention, and, 
though wanting in that force and variety and agitation of passion 
which a work of imagination can exhibit, still, as it is founded in 
truth, it can in this manner compensate for the calmer nature of its 
materials, and has always been found capable of administering 
amusement even to the most thoughtless and uninformed. 

But as othei'S will read, Avhen even the thoughtless read, and as 
history is generally read in early hfe, it has always been one instru- 
ment, among others, of education. It is not too much to say, that 
the whole character of the European nations would have been totally 
different, if the classic histories of antiquity had not come down to 
them ; and if their youth had not been, through every succeeding 
generation, animated and inspired by the examples which are there 
displayed, of integrity and patriotism, of eloquence and valor. 

But every nation has also its particular annals and its own models 
of heroism and genius. The political influence of history may, 
therefore, often be of inestimable value ; it may tell a people of their 
ancestors, of their freedom and renown, their honorable struggles, 
sacrifices, and success ; and it may warn them not to render useless, 
by their own degeneracy, the elevated virtues of those who went 
before them. 

But history may do more than this ; it may exhibit to a people 
the rallying points of their constitution, the fortresses and strong- 
holds of their political happiness ; and it may teach them a sort of 
wisdom unbought by their own dreadful experience, a sort of wisdom 
which shall operate, at the moment of need, with all the rapidity and 
force and accuracy of instinct. 

History is of high moral importance ; for the wise, the good, and 
the brave can thus anticipate and enjoy the praise of ages that are 

B 



14 INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 

unborn, and be excited to the performance of actions which they 
might not otherwise have even conceived. It is probable, too, that 
men of bad passions, and certainly men of doubtful character, are 
sometimes checked by the prospect of that awful censure which they 
must endure, that lasting reproach and detestation with which their 
memories must be hereafter loaded by the inevitable judgments of 
mankind. Undoubtedly, too, the man of injured innocence, the man 
of insulted merit, has invariably reposed himself with confidence on 
the future justice of the historian ; has often spoken peace to his 
indignant and afflicted spirit, by dwelling in imagination on the 
refuge which was thus to be afforded him, even on the theatre of 
tJiis world, from the tyranny of fortune or the wrongs of the oppress- 
or. These are services to mankind above all price ; and the Muse 
of History has ever been of saintly aspect and awful form, the guar- 
dian of the virtues of humanity. 

There are other important purposes to which history may be made 
subservient. 

Unless the past be known, the present cannot be understood ; 
records, therefore, and memorials often form a very material part of 
professional study. 

To the philosopher, history is a faithful mirror, wiiich reflects to 
him the human character under every possible variety of situation 
and color, and thus furnishes him with the means of amplifying and 
confirming the knowledge of our common nature. 

But history also exhibits to the philosopher the conduct and for- 
tunes of mankind continued through many ages, and it therefore en- 
ables him to trace the operation of events, to see the connection of 
causes and effects, and to establish those general principles which 
may be considered by the statesman, if not as axioms, as the best 
guides, at least, that can be found, for his conduct, in his manage- 
ment of the affairs of mankind. 

It is the misfortune in general of the man of reflection, and 
always of the intelligent statesman, that he has to combat with the 
prejudices of those around him, and as arguments can always be 
produced on each side of a question, while he has only reasoning to 
oppose to reasoning, he is little likely to succeed ; but an example 
properly made out from history assumes the appearance of a fact, 
and embarrasses and silences opposition, till all further resistance is 
at length, in some succeeding generation, withdrawn. It is thus 
that a Montesquieu, a Smith, or a Hume, by the application of 
general principles, exemplified by facts, to systems of national pol- 
icy, may sometimes be enabled, however slowly, to expand and rec- 
tify the contracted and unwilling understandings of mankind. 

Such are the uses of history, the uses which it has always served. 
There are others to which it might be made subservient. 

It might teach lessons of moderation to governments, and, when 



INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 15 

the lesson is somewhat closely presented, it sometimes does. But 
cahinets are successive collections of men whose personal experience 
has not been long continued ; and they therefore act too often with 
the blind passions of an individual, and are so habituated to tem- 
porary expedients, to making provision for the day which is going 
over them, and to the rough management of mankind, that, when 
they are approached by the man of reflection and prospective wis- 
dom, they are not sufficiently disposed to listen to what he has to 
suggest or to object ; they are too apt to dismiss with little cer- 
emony his admonitions and his plans ; and Avhen they speak of them, 
it is, for the most part, in some language of their own, under some 
general appellation of " theory and nonsense," or perhaps of 
" metaphysics." 

History, by its general portraits of different states and kingdoms, 
might teach any particular people the infinite diversity of human 
characters and opinions, and inspire them with sentiments of general 
kindness and toleration abroad and at home. But history is, on the 
contrary, generally converted by a people to the purpose of perpet- 
uating religious or political dissensions, and of hardening those 
antipathies which it should rather remove or soften ; its examples 
are appealed to ; the characters of offence and blood, that were ob- 
literated or grown faint by age, are traced out and colored anew ; 
and it is forgotten that such imhappy animosities have no longer any 
proper object or reasonable excuse. 

Having thus endeavoured to give some general idea of the pur- 
poses and value of history, it is necessary, before I conclude, to 
observe, that there is one objection to history, too imposing and too 
weighty not to be alluded to and examined. It is no other than 
this, — that history, after all, is not truth ; that it neither is nor 
ever can be ; that the affairs of the world are carried on by a ma- 
chinery known only to the real actors in the scene, the rulers of 
kingdoms and the ministers of cabinets, — a machinery which must 
for ever be concealed from the observation of the public, partic- 
ularly of historians, men of study and retirement, who know nothing 
of that business of the world which they are so ready to describe 
and to explain. 

This is not unfrequently the language of ministers themselves, at 
least of those who are somewhat of an ordinary cast, — practical 
men, as they are called ; more distinguished for their talents in the 
despatch of business than for their genius. " Do not read history 
to me," said Sir Robert Walpole, one of the best specimens of 
them, — (his son, it seems, had hoped, in this manner, to amuse the 
languor of a man Avho, because he was no longer in office, knew not 
how to employ himself,) —"Do not read history, for that I know 
must be false." 

Lord Bolingbroke, on the contrary, a statesman also, writes let- 



16 INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 

ters, in his retirement, on the study and use of history, and even 
discusses the very point hefore us, and maintains the credibiUty of 
history. 

Ministers like Sir Robert Walpole may on these occasions be not 
a little suspected of something like affectation, — of being dupes to 
their art. Our own king James the First was the most egregious 
pedant of this kind on record ; the mysteries of his state-craft, as 
he called it, were deemed by him to be so profound, that they were 
not to be comprehended even by the houses of Parliament or men 
of any ordinary nature ; and Walpole himself might have been 
thought by this royal trifler as unfit as the historian was thought by 
Walpole to penetrate into the secrets of the world. 

The short state of the question seems to be, that history consists 
of the narrative of facts, and of explanations of those facts, — that 
the facts and events are points which are perfectly ascertainable. 
Nor will this, indeed, be denied. But with respect to the explana- 
tions, how the events related came actually to take place, points of 
this kind must always be matters of investigation, to be traced out 
by the same processes of reasoning which are applied on all similar 
occasions through life, — from a comparison of events and of ap- 
pearances with the acknowledged principles of human actions. Mis- 
takes may sometimes be made, as by juries on a trial ; but this 
is not a sufficient reason for concluding that no judgment can be 
formed. 

It is impossible to say, in general, that explanations always can be 
given, or never can be given ; each particular point becomes a par- 
ticular question, to be decided on by its own merits ; in every in- 
stance, the proper inquiry is, whether the explanation offered be or 
be not sufficient. 

Historians have always affected, and have generally exercised, 
great circumspection in their decisions. It must be remembered 
what the merits of an historian are supposed to be ; not eloquence, 
not imagination, not science, — but patience, discrimination, and 
caution, — diligence in amassing his materials, strict impartiality in 
displaying them, sound judgment in deciding upon them. 

Mankind endeavour, in the same manner, to judge, in their turn, 
upon their historians ; their sources of intelligence, their industry, 
their candor, their good sense, — all these become the subjects of 
the public criticism ; and at last a decision is pronounced, a decision 
that is not likely to be ultimately wrong. 

It is not pretended, that history, if written at the time, can be in 
all points depended upon ; or that truth can become entirely visible 
till some interval has elapsed, and the various causes that are always 
operating to produce the discovery of it have had full opportunity 
to act. 

And lastly, tliere are facts and events that have occurred in the 



INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 17 

world, of which history does not undertake to give any solution ; and 
historical writers are certainly not guilty of the folly of professing to 
explain every thing. 

Were any of these ordinary ministers to be asked what means they 
always employed in the management of mankind, they would answer, 
without hesitation, Their leading interests and passions ; and they 
would laugh at any of their associates in a cabinet who depended 
upon the more delicate principles of individual character. Would it 
not be strange, then, that such leading interests and passions as they 
have made use of should not be afterwai-ds visible to the eyes of an 
historian ? Are they not themselves, though sitting in a cabinet, 
collections of men, influenced by their own leading interests and pas- 
sions, like their fellow-mortals without ? How are these, in like 
manner, to remain for ever impenetrable and unintelligible ? 

Finally, it must be observed that the writers of history are by no 
means to be considered as excluded from all knowledge of those petty 
intrigues on which so much is supposed to depend. Private memoirs 
and the letters of actors in the scene are very often referred to by 
historians ; they are sought for with dihgence, they are always 
thoroughly sifted and examined. In the course of half a century 
after the events, the public are generally put into possession of such 
documents as even the objectors to history ought to think sufficient to 
explain the mysteries of intrigue, and, therefore, even in tlieir view 
of the subject, the transactions of the world. 

On the whole, therefore, to call history a romance, and to say that 
it must necessarily be false, is to confound all distinctions of human 
testimony, criticism, and judgment. Sweeping positions of this kind 
occur in other subjects as well as this of the study of history ; and, 
after a little examination, may be quietly dismissed, as the offspring 
of indolence or spleen, or that love of paradox, which may sometimes 
assist the sagacity, but more often misleads the decisions of the 
understanding. 

One word more in reference to this objection, and I have done. 
Something may, perhaps, be conceded to it. It is always difficult to 
estimate, with perfect accuracy, the moral characters of men ; that 
is, to compare exactly the temptation that has been incurred with the 
resistance that has been made, — the precise motives of the agent 
with his actual conduct. And this, which is so true in private hfe, 
may be still more so in public. It may not always be easy to deter- 
mine, in a minister or a party, what there was of mistake, what of 
good intention, what of uncontrollable necessity, in their apparent 
faults. 

It may be allowed, therefore, that the moral characters of states- 
men may not always be exactly estimated. But it must be observed, 
at the same time, that in many instances these moral characters are 
appreciated differently by different historians, and are confessedly a 
3 B* 



18 INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 

subject of historical difficulty ; that here, therefore, no mistake is 
made ; and that mankind, though very likely to praise or censure too 
vehemently at first, are not likely to be materially inaccurate at last. 
Add to this, that statesmen, who perceive that their conduct may 
hereafter be liable to misrepresentation, have it always in their power, 
and have in general been induced, to leave documents to their family 
for the purpose of explaining their views and justifying their meas- 
ures ; and as they know beforehand the nature of that tribunal of 
posterity which is to determine on their merits, the conclusion is, if 
they refuse to plead, that they foresee a verdict against which they 
have nothing satisfactory to urge, and which is therefore right. 

But I must now conclude. Many years that preceded, and many 
that followed, the first opening of these lectures, in 1809, were years 
of such unexampled, afflicting, and awful events, the progress of the 
French Revolution and the power of Bonaparte, that the mind was 
kept too agitated and too anxious to be properly at leisure for the 
ordinary sympathies of peaceful study. This effect had been more 
particularly felt by those who were to read history. Who could be 
interested about the German constitution, when it was no more ? 
about the republics of Holland or of Italy, when they had perished ? 
Who could turn to the Muse of History, when she seemed to have 
lost her proper character, — not fitted, as she once had been, to 
show us the kingdoms of the earth and the glory of them, but rather, 
like the Sibyl, to conduct us to the land of shades, to a world that 
could no longer be thought our own ? I need no longer endeavour to 
fortify my hearers against the languor and the very distaste for his- 
tory which circumstances so melancholy were so fitted to produce. 
But the leading remark which I then made I may still retain. It 
was this : — That, though the more minute peculiarities of history 
may cease to engage our attention, its graver subjects may have now, 
more than ever, a claim upon our powers of reflection and inquiry. 
History may have less of amusement for our leisure, but may offer 
much more of instruction for our active thoughts. The mere relator 
of events may be now less fitted to detain us with his details ; but to 
the philosophic historian we shall henceforward be compelled to listen 
with a new and deeper anxiety. If history he the school of mankind, 
it must be confessed that its lessons are at length but too complete ; 
and that states and empires may now be considered in all their posi- 
tions and relations, from the commencement to the termination of 
their political existence. We may see what have been the causes of 
their prosperity ; we may trace the steps by which they have de- 
scended to degradation and ruin. 

The truth is, that these tremendous years have made such studies 
as we are now to engage in, considered in this point of view, of far 
more than ordinary importance ; and, whether we consider the situa- 
tion of the world, or of our own domestic polity, it is but too plain 



BARBARIANS AND ROMANS. 19 

that neither indolence nor ignorance can be any longer admitted in 
our young men of education and property ; it is but too plain that 
pohtical mistakes, at all times dangerous, may to us be fatal ; it is 
quite impossible to say how much may not depend on the intelligence 
and virtue of the rising generation. 



LECTURE I. 

1809. 

BARBARIANS AND ROMANS. 

Of the ancient world we derive our knowledge from the Sacred 
Scriptures and the writings of Greece and Rome. We have no other 
sources of information on which we can well depend ; but every such 
information must be at all times interesting. There is no nation, 
however removed from us by distance or by time, whose history will 
not be always a subject of rational curiosity to a reflecting mind ; yet 
the student of ancient history will find his attention irresistibly drawn 
to three particular nations, — the Greeks, the Romans, and the Jews. 
These are names for ever associated with our best feelings and our 
first interests. The poets and the orators, the sages and the heroes, 
of Greece and Rome still animate our imaginations and instruct our 
minds ; and the lawgiver of Israel led his people from Egypt to give 
birth to the prophets of our religion, and, when the fulness of time 
was come, to the Saviour of the world. 

Ancient history is not excluded, a knowledge of it is presupposed, 
in the study of modern history, — a knowledge, at least, of those 
events which can now be ascertained, and of those nations more par- 
ticularly whose taste, philosophy, and religion are still visible in our 
own. Ancient history at last conducts us to the exclusive considera- 
tion of the Romans. Rome is the only figure left in the foreground 
of the picture ; but in the distance are seen the northern nations, 
who ai-e now to come forward and to share with the Romans our curi- 
osity and attention. 

These nations had already been but too well kno-^Ti to the Roman 
people. They had destroyed five consular armies, — encountered 
Marius, — contended with Julius Coesar, — annihilated Varus and his 
three legions, and given the title of Germanicus to the first Roman 
of his age. 



20 LECTURE I. 

In the time of Marcus Antoninus a general union was formed bj 
tlie Barbarians, and they were not subdued till after a long and 
doubtful conflict. 

About the middle of the third century, under the reign of Valerian 
and Gallienus, they began everywhere to press forward, and were 
seen fairly struggling with the E-omans for the empire of Europe. 

Here, then, we are to make our first pause ; we are to stop and 
reflect upon the scene before us. We have the civilized and unciv- 
ilized portions of the world contending, — we have the two great 
divisions of mankind, which then existed, drawn up in array. What 
was the exact character of each ? Wliich was likely to prevail ? 
What was to be the result of this strange and tremendous collision ? 
These are the great questions that occur at this remarkable juncture, 
at this critical interval between the ancient and modern history of the 
European nations. We are not without our means of inquiry into 
this interesting subject. We will take each of these questions in 
its order. 

1st. What were the exact characters of the Barbarians and the 
Romans at this extraordinary crisis ? With respect to the Barba- 
rians, — fortunately for us, they fell under the observation, first of 
one of the most celebrated men, and afterwards of one of the most 
celebrated writers of antiquity, — of Caesar and of Tacitus : to them 
we must refer. I will say a word of each in his order. 

The Commentaries of Caesar must be consulted, not only in the 
sixth book, but in the first and fourth. And here I must observe, 
that, though the Celts or Gauls are not to be confounded with the 
Gothic nations, who finally overran the Roman Empire, still there is 
not a part of the work that is not connected with the general sub- 
ject ; the whole is a picture of the two great portions into which 
mankind might then be divided (the civilized and the barbarians), 
while it professes to be only an account of the campaigns of Csesar 
in Gaul. I will cite an example or two ; and I do this the more 
readily, and the more at length, that I may, as early as possible, 
and as strongly as possible, enforce upon the minds of my hearers 
the following remark : — that there is nothing of so much con- 
sequence to the reader of history, as to acquire the art of drawing 
from an original author such inferences as the author himself never 
expected would be made by his readers, and perhaps never intended 
they should make. Caesar, for instance, is not giving an avowed 
description of the Germans, when he gives us the reply of Ariovis- 
tus ; yet how could he have described the mihtary force of the 
country more strongly ? " Fight us, if you please," said the bold 
Barbarian ; " you will learn to know us ; we are a nation that have 
been under no roof within the last fourteen years." " Quum vellet, 
congrederetur ; intellecturum, quid invicti Germani, exercitatissimi 
in armis, qui intra annos quatuordecim tectum non subissent, virtute 
possent." 



BARBARIANS AND ROMANS. 21 

Again, Caesar does not profess to illustrate the unsettled nature 
of these nations and their frequent migrations ; yet these facts ap- 
pear in every page of his work. He begins with the migration of 
the Hclvetii. What w^as the reason ? They found, it seems, their 
territory madequate to their numbers and unworthy of their renown. 
From one passage we may collect what their territory was ; from 
another, their numbers : and as the population could scarcely have 
been that of nine to a square mile, the fact must have been, though 
the country was mountainous, that they were fierce and restless, and 
unskilled in agriculture. They stated their fighting men to be nine- 
ty-two thousand ; and with this force they were ready to undertake 
an expedition of this doubtful nature. After a conflict with Ciiesar, 
little more than a fourth of the ivhole natioji returned; that is, 
nearly three hundred thousand people must have perished, — a spe- 
cimen of the calamities by which these migrations must have been 
often attended. 

Again, Cfesar is giving no description of the unhappy state of 
mankind at this period ; yet, after telling us the story of the Adu- 
atici (B. ii.), and speaking of a stronghold into which they had 
thrown themselves, as a last resource, his words are these : — " Pos- 
tridie ejus diei, refractis portis, quum jam defenderet nemo, atque 
intromissis militibus nostris, sectionem ejus oppidi universam Csesar 
vendidit : ab his, qui emerant, capitum numerus ad eum relatus est, 
quinquaginta trium millium," — that is, in fact, there seems to have 
been no difficulty in selling, as slaves, fifty-three thousand people at 
a time, in the heart of Europe. No occurrence can be mentioned 
more as a thing of course ; such we knoAv from other sources was 
the common fate of the vanquished, at a time when war seems to 
have been the great business of human life. What, then, must have 
been the state of mankind ? 

C:Bsar is not taking any pains to illustrate the military character 
of eitlier the Barbarians or the Romans ; yet he tells us that the 
Nervii, from the dead bodies of their countrymen, threw their darts, 
as from an eminence, and seized and returned the pila which had 
been hurled at them by the Romans, — " His dejectis, et coacervatis 
cadaveribus, qui superessent, ut ex tumulo, tela in nostros conjice- 
rent, pilaque intercepta rcmitterent. " In the next section, he tells 
us, that, of six hundred of their senators, three only remained ; and 
of sixty thousand fighting men, scarcely five hundred. No doubt, 
this was one of the most tremendous conflicts in the course of his 
campaigns ; but if such facts ever occurred, what must in general 
have been the vanquished, and what the victors ? 

In this manner, from indirect notices in the recital of an original 
author, a more lively idea can often be formed, than from the most 
regular and professed description. Such a description, however, of 
the Gauls and Germans is given by Coesar in the sixth book. Of 



22 LECTURE I. 

tlie former tlie picture is short, but striking: — " Plebs poene servo- 
rum liabetur loco, quse per se nihil audet, et nulli adhibetur concilio. 

— Viri in uxores, sicuti in liberos, vitge necisque habent potestatem. 

— Qui in proehis periculisque versantur, aut pro victimis homines 
immolant, aut se immolaturos vovent, administrisque ad ea sacrificia 
Druidibus utuntur." A horrible description follows : a wicker fig- 
ure of a man, immense in size, the interstices of which were to be 
filled up with living men and then burnt. " Alii immani magiiitu- 
dine simulacra habent, quorum contexta \iminibus membra vivis 
hominibus complent, quibus succensis, circumventi flamma exaniman- 
tur homines." So ingenious is the dullest superstition in contriving 
its abominable torments. The Druids, indeed, settled the temporal 
disputes of the community, and gave instructions in astronomy, the 
doctrine of immortality, &c., — " Non interire animas ; multa prse- 
terea de sideribus ; de rerum natura," &c. But what knowledge 
of any value could be taught by the priests of so gloomy a super- 
stition ? 

So much for the Gauls. With respect to the Germans, they had 
no Druids. They approached to the state of a pastoral nation ; 
placed their glory in having a solitude of terror around their bor- 
ders ; had, in peace, no magistrates but their chieftains : created 
dictators in war ; and every means was adopted to make the nation 
hardy and content, by constantly exposing them to the inclemencies 
of a German climate, and by banishing the distinctions of property 
and wealth. 

Such is a most shght sketch of the assistance which we derive 
from Caesar, in our wish to acquire a knowledge of the Barba- 
rians. 

We will next advert to Tacitus. More than a hundred years 
after the Germans had attracted the notice of C?esar, they were de- 
lineated by the masterly pencil of Tacitus, and that in a professed 
work on the subject, — " De Moribus Germanise." 

The figures are still bold and savage, but something of a more 
soft and agreeable light is diffused, however faintly, over the pic- 
ture. In our estimation of the whole, some allowance must be made 
for the great historian himself. We may remember, in our own 
times, how the eloquent Rousseau, amid the \dces of civilized life, 
could sigh for the innocence and the virtue — " the sublime science 
of simple souls " — which he conceived could be found only amid 
the rocks and the forests of uncultivated man. The sensibility of 
Tacitus, — a man of imagination also, — exasperated by the hcen- 
tiousness of Rome, may be suspected, in like manner, of having 
surveyed these unpolished Barbarians with considerable indulgence. 
The manly virtues were undoubtedly to be found among them ; but, 
to the perfection of the human character, it is necessary that these 
should be softened by humanity and dignified by knowledge. 



BARBARIANS AND ROMANS. 23 

I stop to observe, that savage and civilized life may each exliibit 
the disgusting extremes of opposite evil ; but the one uniformly, the 
other only partially. It is in vain to fly from one, to be lost in the 
still more frightful degradation of the other ; and the propensities 
and capacities of our nature seem clearly to indicate that we are 
intended, not for solitude and torpor, but for society and improve- 
ment. 

Whatever value we may justly affix to the account of Ciesar, the 
treatise of Tacitus is still more distinct, complete, and important. 
There is no work of profane literature that has been so studied and 
discussed. The whole has such a reference to the manners and gov- 
ernments of Europe, that every part of it has been examined by 
antiquarians and philosophers ; and there is no labor which we must 
not willingly employ, if it be necessary, to familiarize our minds to a 
treatise so celebrated and so important. I must suppose this done, 
and proceed. When we have thus formed a general idea of the 
Barbarians, we must next endeavour to miderstand the character 
and situation of the Romans. 

The original classic writers of Rome must be consulted ; but they 
must be meditated, not read; the student has probably read most of 
them already. But with respect to all the classical writings of 
antiquity, I must digress for a moment to observe, that it is one 
thing to know their beauties and their difficult passages, and another, 
to turn to our cwn advantage the information they contain. It is 
one thing to enrich our imagination and form our taste ; it is another, 
to draw from them the materials of our owa. reasonings, to enlarge 
our knowledge of human nature, and to give efficacy to our own 
labors, by observing the images of the human mind, as reflected in 
the mirrors of the past. He who is already a scholar should en- 
deavour to be more ; it is possible that he may be possessed of treas- 
ures which he is without the wish or the ability to use. And here I 
would recommend to my hearers one of the essays of Mr. Hume, — 
that on the Populousness of Ancient Nations ; this essay will illus- 
trate my meaning. INIy hearers may probably never have heard of 
Mr. Hume as a man of learning ; but this essay may serve to show 
the difference between what a man of learning often is, and what he 
sometimes, as in the case of Mr. Hume, may become, — between 
him who merely reads, and him who not only reads, but thinks, — 
who can acquire not only a knowledge of words and sentences (in- 
vestigations in themselves of perfect importance), but can carry his 
knowledge into investigations of a still higher nature, the study of the 
principles of human nature and political society. The same essay may 
also illustrate the art which I have already announced, of drawing 
from a work inferences which the author never intended to supply. 
Of this art no master has ever yet appeared, equal to Mr. Hume. 

But to return to our more immediate subject, the characters of the 



24 LECTURE 1. 

Barbarians and Romans. — After sucli writers as I have mentioned 
or alluded to, the first three chapters of Mr. Gibbon's History, and 
the ninth, must be most dihgently studied. These chapters may 
serve to point out more particularly the classical authors that should 
be consulted ; — they are very comprehensively and powerfully 
written ; nothing more can be wanted to give the most lively and 
complete idea of the Romans and the Barbarians, and to enable us 
to understand and sympathize with the great contest that was to en- 
sue. I must again suppose this done ; and the student, having thus 
acquainted himself with the state of the barbarous and civilized na- 
tions of Europe, at this remarkable epoch, may be next employed in 
considering our second question, — Which of the two descriptions of 
combatants was likely to prevail ? — what were the natural and 
acquired advantages and disadvantages of each ? 

When we read the account of the hardiness and fierce courage of 
the Barbarians, it seems impossible that they should be, by any other 
human beings, resisted ; and yet still more impossible to suppose that 
the Roman legions can be overcome, Avhen we consider, on the other 
hand, their skill, their courage, and their discipline, — the long result 
of many ages of experience and victory. Arms, science, and union 
are on one side ; savage nature and freedom on the other. The ulti- 
mate success, however, of the Barbarians could not well be doubted ; 
every change, it Avas clear, would be in their favor ; it was the con- 
test of youth against age, of hope against fear. 

In the civihzed state, the government had degenerated into a mili- 
tary despotism ; the vital principle was in decay ; the freedom, the 
genius, of Rome was gone for ever. Disciphne,it was evident, would 
in the Barbarians continually improve, — among the Romans gradu- 
ally disappear. The jealousies and dissensions of the Barbarians, on 
one side, might delay the event ; as might, on the other, great ability 
and virtue in the Roman emperors. But a succession of such merit 
could not be expected. Under the military government of the army, 
— a government of anarchy and licentiousness, — the character of the 
Roman people, and of the army itself, would eventually sink and 
perish ; and a few Barbarian chieftains arising at different periods, 
of sufficient ability to combine and direct the energies of their coun- 
trymen, would, it was evident, at first shake and at length over- 
whelm the licentious affluence, the relaxed disciphne, the broken, the 
wasted, the distracted powers of the Empire of Rome. Such, indeed, 
was the fact. The particular events and steps of this great revolu- 
tion are to be seen in the History of Gibbon. There is likewise a 
history of the Germans, written originally in German by Mascou, 
and an English translation by Lodiard, where the facts are told more 
simply and intelligibly ; and to the learning and merit of this author 
Mr. Gibbon bears ample testimony. 

The fall of the Empire of the West was evidently to be expected, 



BARBARIANS AND ROMANS. 25 

for the reasons we have mentioned ; but to these might have been 
added, bj any reasoner at the time, the possibihty that a new torrent 
of Barbarians might rush into Europe from the northeast and the 
plains of Scythia. The Empire had never been undisturbed, and had 
often suflfered very severe defeats, in that quarter. Such a cahimity 
might not prove fatal, though dreadful, even to the Germans ; but 
there was every probability that it would complete the destruction of 
Rome. Such an irruption did, in fact, take place ; the nation of the 
Huns suddenly appeared, savages still more odious and terrific than 
had before been experienced. From the north of China they had 
passed or retreated to the confines of the Volga, — thence to the Ta- 
nais, — and after they had defeated the Alani, they pressed omvard 
to the conquest of Europe. The Goths themselves, on whom they 
first descended, considered them as the offspring of witches and in- 
fernal spirits in the deserts of Scytliia ; an opmion that forcibly ex- 
pressed how unsightly was their appearance and how tremendous 
their hostihty. 

An account of this invasion, and of the nation itself, may be read 
in the twenty-sixth, thirty-fourth, and thirty-fifth chapters of Mr. 
Gibbon ; and notwithstanding the range of knowledge displayed, and 
the masterly compression of the subject, the reader will often be re- 
minded, but too painfully, of the simplicity of Hume, and the per- 
spicuous, though somewhat labored, elegance of Robertson. 

This dreadful visitation of the Huns did not, after all, destroy the 
Roman Empire, or leave that impression on the face of Europe 
which might have been expected. \Vhen the fiei'ce Attila was no 
more, the force of liis nation gradually decayed : Attila himself re- 
treated from Gaul, which in the progress of his conquests he had at- 
tacked ; and tliis whole irruption of the Huns must be considered 
chiefly as a sort of temporary interruption to the great contest be- 
tween the northern nations and Rome. To this contest our attention 
must again return, and we must pursue the fall of the Western Em- 
pire, as shown in the stately and brilhant narrative of Gibbon. The 
northern nations we shall now see everywhere triumphant ; distinct 
divisions of them taking their station, — the Franks in Gaul, the 
Visigoths in Spam, the Burgundians on the Rhone, the Austro-Goths 
in Italy ; and the Western Empire, at last, sinking under the great 
leader of his nation, Odoacer, who was himself subdued b}^ the re- 
nowned Theodoric. 

And now a second epoch is presented to us, — the Ml of the 
Western Empire of Rome and the rise of the difierent empires of the 
Barbarians ; and, therefore, now comes the tliird and the last ques- 
tion which we have mentioned, — What was to be the result of this 
tremendous collision between the civilized and uncivilized portions of 
mankind, and of this ultimate triumph of the Barbarians ? 

Could we suppose a philosopher to have lived at this period of the 
4 c 



26 LECTURE I. 

world, elevated by benevolence and enlightened by learning and re- 
flection, concerned for the happiness of mankind and capable of com- 
prehending it, we can conceive nothing more interesting than would 
to him have appeared the situation and fortunes of the human race. 
The civilized world, he would have said, is sinking in the west before 
these endless tribes of savages from the north. The sister empire of 
Constantinople in the east, the last remaining refuge of civilization, 
must soon be overwhelmed by similar irruptions of Barbarians from 
the northwest, from Scythia, or the remoter east. What can be the 
consequence ? Will the world be lost in the darkness of ignorance 
and ferocity, — sink, never to emerge ? Or will the wrecks of litera- 
ture and the arts, that may survive the stonn, be fitted to strike 
the attention of these rude conquerors, or sufficient to enrich their 
minds with the seeds of future improvement ? Or, lastly, and on the 
other hand, may not this extended and dreadful convulsion of Europe 
be, after all, favorable to the human race ? Some change is neces- 
sary ; the civihzed world is no longer to be respected ; its manners 
are corrupted, its Uterature has long decHned, its religion is lost in 
controversy or debased by superstition. There is no genius, no 
liberty, no virtue. Surely the human race mil be improved by the 
renewal which it will receive from the influx of these freeborn war- 
riors. Mankind, fresh from the hand of nature, and regenerated by 
this new infusion of youth and vigor, will no longer exhibit the vices 
and the weakness of this decrepitude of humanity ; their aspect will 
be erect, their step firm, their character manly. There are not 
Avanting the means to advance them to perfection : the Roman law is 
at hand to connect them with each other ; Clu-istianity, to unite them 
to their Creator ; they are already free. The world Avill, indeed, be- 
gin anew, but it will start to a race of happiness and glory. 

Such, we may conceive, might have been the opposite speculations 
of any enlightened reasoner at that critical period. But with what 
eagerness would he have wished to penetrate into futurity ! How 
would he have sighed to lift up that awful veil which no hand can 
remove, no eye can pierce ! With what intensity of curiosity would 
he have longed to gaze upon the scenes that were in reality to ap- 
proach ! And could such an anticipation of the subsequent history 
of the world have been indeed allowed him, with what variety of 
emotions would he have surveyed the strange and shifting drama 
that was afterwards exhibited by the conflicting reason and passions 
of mankind, — the licentious warrior, the gloomy monk, the mihtary 
prophet, the priestly despot, the shuddering devotee, the iron baron, 
the ready vassal, the courteous knight, the princely merchant, the 
fearless navigator, the patient scholar, the munificent patron, the bold 
reformer, the relentless bigot, the consuming martyr, the poet, the 
artist, and the philosopher, the legislator, the statesman, and the 
sage, all that were by their united virtues and labors to assist the 



BARBARIANS AND ROMANS. 27 

progress of the human race, all that were at last to advance society 
to the state which, during the greater part of the last century, it so 
happily had reached, the state of balanced power, of diffused hu- 
manity and knowledge, of political dignity, of private and puhhc 
happiness ! 

There are periods in the history of mankind, when wishes like 
these, to look into futurity, — strange and unmeaning as to colder 
minds they may at first sight appear, vain as to minds the most 
ardent and enlightened we must confess them to be, — are still nat- 
ural and ine\4table ; and are felt, and deeply felt, by all inteUigent 
men, to the very fatigue and sickening of curiosity. Such a period 
has been our own ; it continued to be so for more than twenty years, 
from the breaking out of the French Revolution in 1789. Such a 
period was found m the days of Columbus, and of Luther. Such, 
lastly, was the period which we are, in this lecture, more immedi- 
ately considering, the period when the northern nations were 
everywhere prevaiUng ; and the question was, What were to be the 
future fortunes of the world ? — to what changes were to be exposed 
the knowledge and ci\dlization of the human race ? 

I must recommend it to you to take every opportunity to pause in 
this manner, and to indulge any effort of the imagination by which 
you can suppose yourselves for a time transported into distant ages, 
taking part with the actors in the scene, animated with their hopes, 
alarmed by their fears, oppressed by their anxieties, their apprehen- 
sions for the future, their regrets for the past. For it is only by 
this plastic power of the mind, and these voluntary delusions, that 
either the instruction or the entertainment of history can be real- 
ized, — that history can be thorougldy understood, or properly en- 
joyed. 

We return, then, to that memorable epoch in the liistory of 
Europe to which I have endeavoured to direct your reflections. The 
Barbarians have everywhere broken down the Roman empire, and 
have established their own ; they have taken their different stations. 
What, then, was the result ? To what degree, on the one hand, was 
the independent ferocity of the Barbarians softened by that Chris- 
tianity and those laws which were at the time in the possession of 
the Romans ; and to what degree, on the other, was the degeneracy 
of the Romans elevated ? What purity did their controversial re- 
ligion, what freedom did their courtly jurisprudence, derive from the 
bold and native virtues of the Barbai-ians ? In a word, what were 
the fortmies of the human race ? Wliat impression, what direction, 
did the happiness of mankind receive ? 

The answer to these questions is not at first as favorable as might 
be wished ; it is for some time contained in the history of the Dark 
Ages. The Dark Ages were the more immediate resvxlt of this mem- 
orable crisis of the western world. And it is thus that the Dark 



28 LECTURE I. 

Ages are almost the first subject that is to be encountered by the 
student of modern history. 

This is unfortunate, — unfortunate more especially for the youth- 
ful student. Look at the writers that undertake the history of 
these times. They oppress you by their tediousness ; they repel you 
by their very appearance, by the antiquarian nature of their re- 
searches, and the very size of their volumes. You recoil, and very 
naturally, from events and names which you have never heard of 
before, which you do not expect to hear of again, and which, above 
all, it is impossible to remember. 

Were you to fly to the General History of Voltaire, you might be 
able to read, indeed, the page, from the occasional sprightliness of 
the remarks ; but you would not be able to understand the events and 
characters which you would there see pass before your eyes, in a 
succession far too shadowy and rapid ; nor would you be able, more 
than before, to remember what you had read. The only benefit that 
you would appear to derive would be this, — that you would think 
you had learnt from the perusal, that, though you remembered noth- 
ing, there was nothing worth remembering ; that savages, under 
whatever name, were fitted only to disgust you ; and that you had 
better hasten to parts of history more authentic and more instructive. 
The same conclusion you would see drawn by Lord Bolingbroke, 
in his Letters on History. 

Conclusions, however, like these are not the proper conclusions. 
The history of the Dark Ages, for all philosophic purposes, is neither 
without its authenticity nor its value, and you must, in some way or 
other, acquire some knowledge of it, — some knowledge of these 
barbarous times, and these our barbarous ancestors ; because you 
must, by some means or other, see the manner in which the Eu- 
ropean character was formed, and from what elements the difierent 
governments of Europe have originally sprung. 

The European character, you must be aware, is not the Asiatic 
character, nor the native American character, but one singularly 
composed, and one that has been able to subjugate every other in 
the world. Nor is the European form of government like the 
Asiatic, nor is that of England like that of France, nor either like 
that of Germany ; and it is these differences and their origin — these 
differences, both in the personal character of the individual of Eu- 
rope, and in the general character of the constitution under which 
he lives — that are the first objects which present themselves to your 
diligence ; and to trace them out and to understand them must con- 
stitute your entertainment and support your diligence, while you 
are laboring through the liistory of the Dark Ages. 

I do not deny that the study of this particular part of modern 
history is difficult and tedious. In whatever way I can propose it to 
you, this must necessarily be the case. Those whose minds are of a 



BARBARIANS AND ROMANS. 29 

philosopliic cast may, indeed, undertake it with cheerfulness, and be 
left to pursue it with pleasure and success ; but it is for me to en- 
deavour to accommodate myself to minds of every description ; and 
I shall therefore mention, in the first place, what I tliink may be 
attempted by any one who hears me, hoAvever indisposed to antiqua- 
rian research. 

In the first place, then, there has been a book published by Mr. 
Butler that on the present occasion I consider as invaluable, — But- 
ler on the German Constitution. Here will be found all the outlines 
of the subject. Let the detail be studied, whenever it is thought 
necessary, in Gibbon. Let Renault's Abridgment, or Millot's 
Abridgment, or rather Elements, of the French History, be referred 
to. These may be followed by Robertson's introduction to his His- 
tory of Charles the Fifth. And in this manner the student will be 
conducted through a long and dreary tract (which, however, it is 
entirely necessary he should travel through) with the least possible 
expense, as I conceive, of his time and his patience. 

In the lecture of to-morrow, I may allude to more books, and 
recommend more, than I have yet done ; but, in the first place, I 
have thought it best to describe, in the manner you have heard, the 
least possible effort that can be required from any one that is placed 
within the reach of a regular education in an improved country, hke 
this of England. No good can be purchased without some labor ; 
and though the opening of modern history may be repulsive, the 
portions of it that follow "will be found sufficiently attractive. 

You will now, therefore, understand what I wish you to bear 
away, as the sum and substance of the present lecture : — That it 
was a very remarkable crisis of the world, when the Romans and 
Barbarians were contending for the empire of it. That you must 
endeavour to comprehend from the writers I first mentioned, Caesar, 
Tacitus, and Gibbon, what were the characters of the combatants, 
and then ask yourselves what was likely to be the result. That the 
first and more immediate result was the Dark Ages. That these are, 
therefore, immediately to be studied ; not only as being the first re- 
sult of such an extraordinary coUision between the civiHzed and un- 
civilized portions of mankind at the time, but because in these Dark 
Ages are to be found the elements of the European character and 
governments, as they now exist. Studied, however, though they 
must be, that studied they cannot be without great toil and patience. 
That to those who are ready to undergo such intellectual exertion I 
shall address myself in subsequent lectures, but that m the mean 
time the readiest method I have to propose of acquiring proper in- 
formation on this indispensable portion of modern history is the study 
of Butler, Gibbon, Henault, or Millot, and Robertson, — his preface 
to the History of Charles the Fifth ; and that this course of reading 
I tliink very practicable. 

c* 



30 LECTURE I. 

One word more, and I conclude. You have just heard the books 
I refer to. I have now to add, that I think there are certain sub- 
jects which may be selected from the immense general subject of the 
Dark Ages, and which may give you an idea of the whole in the 
shortest and best manner. I hope, by mentioning them, to save you 
from being somewhat bewildered by the variety of topics and the 
multiplicity of researches in which you might be engaged, if you 
properly studied even such writers, and no more than such writers, 
as I have just recommended, — much more, if you passed on from 
them to others, such as I shall mention to-morrow. 

These subjects are the following. You will see them enumerated 
in the syllabus. 

First, in the French history, Clovis, the founder of the French 
monarchy and the Merovingian or first race of kings. 

Second, the Pepins and Charles Martel, the Mayors of the Palace. 
They administered, and the second Pepin at last seized, the govern- 
ment, and founded the second or Carlovingian race of kings. — And 
then. 

The third object of attention is Charlemagne. 

Out of the immense empire of Charlemagne arose the two great 
empires of Germany and France, which become the fourth point to 
be considered. Or rather, the point to be considered is the man- 
ner in which the crown in the one case became hereditary, in the 
other elective. 

Again, in consequence of the intercourse which took place between 
the French princes and the Pope, the latter became a temporal 
prince ; which makes the temporal power of the Pope the fifth object 
of consideration. 

During this period the Feudal System had its origin, — the sixth. 

Chivalry is the seventh. 

In the German history, the great objects of attention are the 
struggles between the Popes and the Emperors, — the eighth. 

The rise and prosperity of the free and imperial cities and com- 
mercial communities in Italy and every part of Europe, more particu- 
larly of the Hanseatic league, — the ninth. 

You will thus reach the subject of the Crusades, — the tenth. 

These are, I conceive, the main subjects ; but there is one yet re- 
maining, which in point of order I should have mentioned first, the 
laws of the Barbarians, — the eleventh. 

You will find this subject alluded to in the books I have mentioned, 
and you will immediately see its importance. The laws of a people, 
you cannot but be aware, will always give you the best and readiest 
insight into their political situation. The laws of the Barbarians will, 
therefore, best show you what was the more immediate result of the 
collision we have so often alluded to between the civilized and un- 
civilized portions of mankind. 



LAWS OF THE BARBARIANS. 31 

This subject, however, is a large subject, and many of you may be 
unwilling to undertake it. I must endeavour to propose it to you in 
some way or other that may afford me a proper chance of your con- 
sidering it, and this I Avill do to-morrow. It may be as well too, per- 
haps, if I then enter a little more into the subjects I have just 
mentioned ; and this, therefore, I will do, though I must necessarily 
be very brief. 

I cannot but remember how I have been affected myself by this 
portion of modern history, in my progress through it as a student, — 
in other words, and to confess the truth, how disheartened and over- 
powered I have at times been ; and I must now, therefore, remmd 
you of what I have proposed to myself as the great end and hope of 
these lectures, — the enabling of you to read history with better ad- 
vantage for yourselves. I shall be too fortunate, if it is possible for 
me so to assist you in your labors ; and so to furnish you with prefa- 
tory principles and information, that you may hereafter approach the 
subject at once as masters and as scholars, — with the curiosity of 
the one, and the philosophic views of the other. 



LECTURE 11. 



LAWS OF THE BARBARIANS. 

In my last lecture I endeavoured to draw your attention, first, to 
that crisis of human affairs which took place during the contest of the 
northern nations Avith the Romans for the empire of Europe ; and, 
secondly, to the dark ages which immediately followed. I did so, 
because in that contest, and in those dark ages, not only one of the 
most interesting epochs may be found in the history of the human 
race, but also the first outlines and the great original sources and 
elements of the character of the European individual and of the 
European governments. 

I mentioned to you the books to which you might refer for infor- 
mation ; and those subjects which I thought you might select from 
the rest, as the most likely to give you, in the shortest time, a com- 
manding view of the whole. 

I announced to you, as I concluded my lectiire, that I should fur- 
nish you to-day with a few observations on each of these subjects, the 
better to enable you to form some general notion of them at present, 
and to study them hereafter. 



32 LECTURE H. 

This I will now do ; and shall, therefore, have to mention more 
books than I have hitherto done. The fact is, that I had originally 
drawn up, with considerable labor, such statements and observations 
on these subjects, and on the earlier parts of the French and German 
histories, as I had conceived would give my hearer an adequate 
view of them, and save him much fatigue of his spirits and occupa- 
tion of his time. But, after considering what I had written, I be- 
came satisfied that I had attempted too much ; that all such subjects 
and all such periods of history must be left to the study, more or less 
laborious, of every man for himself; and that they cannot be dis- 
cussed or described in any such general manner as can save him from 
the necessity of his own exertions. Allusions must be made at every 
moment to characters and events which have been scarcely heard of, 
and which cannot therefore be understood. Estimates must be given, 
the propriety of which cannot be judged of ; criticisms entered upon, 
necessarily unintelhgible ; and on the whole, that which it would be 
a labor to consider, if offered in the shape of a book to a reader in his 
closet, cannot be presented in the shape of a lecture to a hearer. 

I can therefore only mention the exertions I have really made, — 
the most fatiguing I have had to make, — the better to justify myself 
in requii'ing what I esteem but necessary exertions from others ; and 
I shall sufficiently exercise your patience, if, instead of discussing 
these subjects, as I had endeavoured to do in several lectures which 
I have now dismissed, I make an observation on each subject, as I 
yesterday proposed to do, merely to assist you in taking proper meas- 
ures for your own instruction. 

1st, then, an account of Clovis and the earlier portions of the 
French history is to be found in Gibbon. 

2d. With respect to the Mayors of the Palace. The observations 
of Montesquieu are here very satisfactory. But in all and in every 
part of these subjects, and of all this history, the work of the Abbe 
de Mably is inestimable. The French history, to one not a native 
of France, would be a subject of despair, would be totally unintelli- 
gible, without his assistance ; and when I recommend him to others, 
I ought to do it in the language of the most perfect gratitude for the 
relief he has so often, or rather, so continually, afforded me. 

3d. With respect to Charlemagne, the great conqueror of his age. 
There is a life by Eginhard, who lived in his family ; and as it is very 
concise and intelligible, more especially as it is an original document, 
it is well worthy of your perusal. But it is too much in the nature 
of an eloge, — nothing is criticized, nothing censured. The reader 
must think for himself. Eginhard never speculates or enters into the 
causes of events, or their consequences. Thus, he mentions the great 
defeat of the INIahometans in the plains of France, by Charles Martel, 
and the elevation of Pepin to the throne, " per auctoritatem Romani 
Pontificis," without the slightest comment. 



LAWS OF THE BARBARIANS. 3'3 

Eginhard gives a few, but too few, of the particulars of the private 
life and manners of the emperor ; — that he in vain endeavoured, 
when too late, to learn to write, &c., &c. 

Montesquieu is loud in the praise of this prince. The Abbe de 
Mably is still more distinct in liis approbation. Their approbation is 
valuable, and should be weighed by the student ; for a less favorable, 
but masterly, estimate of his merits is given by Mr. Gibbon, in his 
foi'ty-nmth chapter. His animadversions seem but too just ; yet the 
estimate, on the whole, is not sufficiently indulgent. In judging of 
Charlemagne, the student wiU no doubt recollect the nature of aU 
genius and all merit, that it is relative to the age in which it appears. 

So much for the third subject I mentioned, — the subject of Charle- 
magne. 

4th. After the decease of Charlemagne, his immense empire fell 
into the great di\dsions of Italy, France, and Germany. 

And now the point which should attract, I think, your attention, 
is the manner in which the crown in France became hereditary, but 
in Germany elective, and the consequences of these two different 
events. There are some conclusions that may be drawn from the 
nature of man so clearly, that they may be extended to politics, and 
even formed into maxims, — for example, that hereditary is preferar 
ble to elective monarchy. The objections to elective monarchy have 
always been verified in the history of mankind. A thousand years 
ago, it might have been foretold, that, if in France the crown became 
hereditary, and in Germany elective, the one kingdom would be com- 
pact and powerful, the other comparatively di\ided and weak ; that, 
from their vicinity, these empires would subsist in a state of mutual 
jealousy ; and that, in all contests with its great neighbour, Germany 
would, from its constitution, lose all its natural strength' ; that, as the 
croAHi was elective, and as the great lords had fallen into a few ex- 
clusive combinations, the event must be, either that one of these 
dynasties would gain the ascendant and reduce the whole into some- 
thing like an hereditary empire, or, if not strong enough to seize the 
whole power, then that some secondary potentate might always be 
able to unite itself Avith France, and embroil and weaken, if not ulti- 
mately destroy, the whole. It might also have been stated as a gen- 
eral maxim, that the evils attendant on an elective monarchy would 
be lessened, the more completely the election was transferred from 
the general assemblies of the kingdom to a few electors, as represent- 
atives of the whole kingdom. All these points might have been stated 
long before the different fortunes of Gennany and Poland had become 
examples in history ; and though it be very difficult, as I must repeat, 
to reduce politics to a science, yet there seem some principles in 
human nature so steady, that a few maxims may be formed univer- 
sally applicable. 

The origin of this important difference in the constitutions of France 
5 



34 LECTURE II. 

and Germany should be considered. You will therefore, do well to 
observe, in the work of Pfeffel, at the end of each reign and of each 
dynasty, how the custom of election was preserved in the Gennan 
Empire, till the right received its formal establishment in the elec- 
toral college, by the golden bull of Charles the Fourth ; how chance 
and circumstances contributed to this remarkable difference between 
the two kingdoms. This latter part of the subject may be still more 
completely seen in the Abbe de Mably, particularly in the sixth 
chapter of the fourth book. The French history, too, must be read 
with this particular point present to your remembrance, — Jioiv, for 
instance, in France the crown became hereditary. 

5th. With respect to the fifth point, the rise of the temporal power 
of the Pope, there is a very clear and concise account given by Mr. 
Butler, to which I refer. Koch, too, is very satisfactory, though 
concise. The Church of Rome seems originally to have derived its 
property and its magistracy from Constantino. Pepin successfully 
applied to the Pope to sanction his unjust seizure of the cro^n, and 
the see of Rome was, in return, complimented afterwards with the 
grant of the exarchate of Ravenna and the Pentapolis. The inter- 
course between Charlemagne and Pope Adrian was of a similar na- 
ture, and very beneficial to the see. Pepin might little conceive, 
when he appHed to the Pope for the sanction of liis opinion and au- 
thority, to what extent the sort of interference he requested would 
be afterwards carried ; and it is by these transactions between the 
kings of France and the Popes that this period of history is for ever 
rendered memorable to the nations of Europe. What immediately 
gave rise to this power of the Pope, for which the world was so pre- 
pared, was the controversy about the worship of images ; a masterly 
account of the whole subject, including the commencement of this 
temporal authority, will be found in Mr. Gibbon's forty-nmth chapter. 
The reflection of the reader may justly be drawn, not only to the ori- 
gin of the temporal power of the Pope, but to the controversy itself, 
— the controversy about images, so illustrative of the character of 
mankind, ever ready to lose the practice of religion in contests about 
its speciilative points or ceremonial observances. 

6th. The next subject, the Feudal System, is one on wliich the 
student may exhaust his time and exercise his diligence to any extent 
he pleases ; it has employed the penetration and industry of innu- 
merable antiquarians, philosophers, and lawyers, in whose inquiries 
and dissertations he may, if he pleases, for ever wander. With 
respect, however, to the origin and leading features of this memora- 
ble institution, his attention may, perhaps, be confined to the observa- 
tions of Montesquieu, the Abbe de Mably, Robertson, Stuart in his 
View of Society in Europe, and Millar. In Montesquieu he may, 
perhaps, be somewhat disappointed. Great learning and great power 
of remark are displayed, but the whole is perplexing and unsatisfac- 



LAWS OF THE BARBARIANS. 35 

tory, and therefore very fatiguing : the inquiry does not proceed from 
step to step, and then arrive at a conckision ; remark follows remark, 
and one dissertation is succeeded by another, of which it is not easy 
to see the connection ; the parts are not combined into a whole by 
the author himself, nor can they be by his reader. It is not so with 
Millar, Robertson, or Stuart, or the Abbe de Mably ; these authors 
are at once concise, unaffected, and intelligible. 

The institution of the feudal system must be traced, if possible, 
through such ancient records as have come down to us ; and the stu- 
dent, by reading the authors just mentioned, and looking at the ref- 
erences they make to the Capitularies and state papers which appear 
in Baluze, if he has not the greater work of the Benedictines near 
him, '' Recueil des Historiens des Gaules et de la France," may suf- 
ficiently understand the nature of this important subject. The insti- 
tution itself, though destined so materially to affect the form and 
happiness of society, grew up insensibly, and its steps and gradations 
cannot now be marked. Upon consulting the books I have recom- 
mended, it will appear, in the first place, that the notion of the feudal 
system which is generally formed is not accurate. It does not seem 
to have been, as is supposed, a system adopted by the northern na- 
tions merely for the sake of preserving their conquests ; even Dr. 
Robertson himself, in his earlier consideration of this subject, seems 
to have too nearly approached to some such mistake as this. It will 
be found that lands were held originally by each soldier as his own, 
allodial, — his share of the spoil, on the first conquest of a country. In 
the next place, lands were held as beneficia, — lands given by the king 
or leader. But a fief is more than all this ; it is lands held on a con- 
dition of mihtary or other service, on a condition of vassalage to some 
superior lord. The Abbe de Mably makes it sufficiently probable 
that benefieia of this kind — that is, that fiefs — were first introduced 
by Charies Martel. 

The authors I have referred to explain sufficiently the progress of 
this system : how the fiefs became at last hereditary ; how the system 
of rear fief and rear vassal, of fief within fief, at last obtained ; how 
the same general system, with various distinctions, was extended to 
ecclesiastical property ; how, at last, all the property was converted 
(allodial as well as beneficial), upon the regular principles of human 
nature, into feudal property ; how kingdoms fell into a few great 
fiefs, of which the monarch himself became at last the great holder, 
and therefore the great feudal lord, with more or less influence and 
authority, according to the fortune or talents of his ancestors and 
himself. Thus, in the course of two centuries, the fiefs, for instance, 
in France, had become hereditary, the whole kingdom had fallen into 
eight or nine great feudal baronies ; of these Hugh Capet held the 
strongest, and being the first in ability, amongst these feudal chiefs, 
as well as in possessions, he usurped the crown, and transmitted it to 
his posterity. 



36 LECTURE II. 

Stuart produces his reasons for insisting upon his great distinction 
in the history of the feudal association, — namely, that it was origi- 
nally a bond of love, amity, and friendship, — not of oppression, its 
second and degraded period. This must be considered. But how 
soon and how completely it degenerated may be seen from turning to 
what were called the feudal incidents, which may be found in Black- 
stone, in the notes to Stuart, and in the second of the appendixes of 
Hume's History. The advantages and disadvantages of this system 
may be collected, not only from the writers I have mentioned, but 
from Dr. Millar, who considers it as a system necessarily arising from 
the nature and maimers of these northern nations, — tribes of inde- 
pendent warriors, put into possession, by their conquests, of extensive 
tracts of country, inhabited by a more civilized people. And, on the 
whole, however natural might be the rise and subsequent establish- 
ment of the system, and whatever might have been the benefits which 
it might have afforded to society duruig some of its earUer periods, a 
consideration of the incidents which I have mentioned will show 
clearly that it must soon have become one of the greatest political 
evils that a community could have to struggle with. No doubt, the 
state of anarchy from which the feudal system saved society must 
be duly considered. Wliatever was fitted, as was the feudal system, 
to bind men together by any sense of protection, of gratitude, of 
fidehty, of reciprocal obligation, — whatever was likely to create or 
uphold any generous feelings or milder virtues among them, — what- 
ever had a tendency to protect Europe from any one great conquer- 
or, — whatever introduced or maintained among men any notion of 
legal or political right, was during a long mterval (such was then 
the unhappy state of the world) of the greatest consequence to the 
world. But when tliis office had been rendered to mankind, the 
feudal system became in its turn a source of the most incessant, vex- 
atious, unfeeling, and atrocious oppression, and a great impediment 
to all prosperity and improvement. These two difierent situations 
of the system and of the world must be kept distinctly in remem- 
brance. 

7th. The subject of Chivalry may be found in the work of Stuart, 
and there is a short notice of it in the fifty-eighth chapter of Gibbon. 
The Memoirs of Ancient Chivalry, by Monsieur de St. Palaye, is 
the book generally referred to, and it must by all means be consid- 
ered ; but it is a work very defective. It contains, indeed, a sufficient 
discussion of the education, character, and exercises of the knights, 
but there is not united with these, as there should have been, any 
philosophic account of the rise, influence, and decline of chivalry. 
These important topics are, indeed, taken up and laid down several 
times in different parts of the work, but never pursued or discussed 
in any steady and effective manner. I am not aware that this has 
been properly done or regularly attempted by any writer ; which, 



LAWS OF THE BARBARIANS. 37 

considering the present advanced state of literature, is somewhat 
remarkable. The work of Palaye may be found, where it first ap- 
peared, in the " Memoires de rAcademie," twentieth volume. 

8th. In the German history, to which we next allude, and indeed 
in the history of every part of Europe at this period, the striking 
object of attention is the growth and immense strength of ecclesias- 
tical poAver. The annals of England, France, and more especially 
of Germany, are abundantly crowded with instances of the kind. 
We must recollect that the different prerogatives of the Emperor 
and Pope were left in a state very vague and unsettled. The events 
of the contest are seen in Pfeffel, in that part of his History which 
we now approach, the dynasties of the different houses of Saxony, 
Franconia, and Suabia. It is the earher part of a struggle of this 
kind that is most interesting to a philosophic observer. It is then 
that the lessons of instruction are given ; it is then that are seen the 
slow and successive encroachments by which tyranny is at last estab- 
lished, — the gradual accessions of shade by which a picture is at 
last lost in darkness, — the awful example which proves that what is 
experiment to-day is precedent to-morrow, and right and law, how- 
ever unjust and abominable, for succeeding generations. The steps 
by which the power of the Pope became a despotism so complete are 
marked with sufficient minuteness by Giannone, in his ecclesiastical 
chapters, particularly in his fifth chapter of liis nineteenth book ; and 
tliis will be sufficient for the information of the student. Mr. Gib- 
bon has made several valuable observations on the different emperors 
of the different dynasties during this period, and on their contests in 
Italy. The remarks of Pfeffel are particularly to be noted m the 
Great Interregnum. This is the period during wliich the prerogOr 
tives of the states and the great public law of Germany gamed a 
strength and assumed a form which they never afterwards lost. 

9th. In Pfeffel, too, may be examined the next great object of 
remark which I have mentioned : that change, of all one of the most 
important, the improvement which took place in the condition of the 
imperial cities and the free and imperial cities about this time. As 
it is instructive to investigate the progress of the abuse of poAver, so 
is it, to note the progi'ess of human prosperity, often from begin- 
nings the most unpromising. The important step in this progress 
was the enfranchisement that had been obtained by the inhabitants 
of these cities from the German emperor Henry the Fifth, about a 
century and a half before this period. They had not, however, been 
admitted into the offices of the magistracy ; this, after the death of 
Frederic the Second, in some way or other they effected, and at 
last became a part of the general constitution of Germany itself. 
However distant were these towns or little republics from each other, 
the sympathy of a common interest was everywhere felt. Their 
councils always harmonized, their enterprises were the same ; and 

D 



38 LECTURE II. 

the league of the Rhine and the Hanseatic leagae taught a world of 
barbarous priests and warriors to enjoy the industry and respect the 
courage of these new princes and potentates, the offspring, indeed, 
of serfs and peddlers, but the civilizers and benefactors of mankind. 
In 1241, Ltibeck united itself with a few neighbouring towns against 
some pirates of the Baltic. Their success gave rise to a union of 
all the commercial cities from the Vistula to the Rhine. Among 
these, the cities of Ltibeck, Cologne, Brunswick, and Dantzic, par- 
ticularly Lubeck, had the direction of the general interests. London, 
Bergen, Novgorod, and Bruges were the great depots : these con- 
nected the north to the rest of Europe ; Augsburg and Nuremberg, 
in the heart of Germany, connected the north to Italy ; and the 
Italian republics maintained the intercourse between the western 
and eastern divisions of mankind. Thus extensively did the Hanse- 
atic league circulate the gifts of nature and the labors of art for 
nearly three centuries, and it at length declined, only because it had 
discharged its salutary office m the progress of society, and because 
it was superseded, on the discovery of the Indies, by that more nat- 
ural and more complete, though stiU but too imperfect, system of 
commercial intercourse, which, in defiance of all the jealousies of 
ignorance and all the interruptions and destruction of war, has so 
long continued to soften, to animate, and to improve the condition 
of humanity. 

10th. The memorable Crusades are amongst the objects that will 
in the next place present themselves to the student. They have 
been fully explained by Hume and other writers ; but, as they have 
called forth all the powers of the historian of the Decline and Fall, 
the student may have the advantage of his animated and comprehen- 
sive narrative, and, more particularly, may observe, in one of his 
notes, the original authorities on which liis relation and remarks are 
founded. He is not only the last writer on these subjects, but one 
who is not likely to leave much to be gleaned by those who come 
after him. 

In this slight manner I have endeavoured to mention, not to dis- 
cuss, the great points of attention during these Mddle Ages. I can- 
not deny that the perusal of this part of history is very fatiguing, 
but there is no part more important ; it must at all events be consid- 
ered. I hope that I have presented it in a form in which it may be 
considered. It is only from a due meditation on these melancholy 
scenes and on human nature in this -unfortunate situation, that the 
student can ever be taught properly to feel those blessings of civil, 
rehgious, and commercial liberty by which the later periods of the 
world have been in comparison so happily distinguished. 

I must now refer to the last remaining subject among those which 
I enumerated, as connected with tliis period of the history of the 
world. 



LAWS OF THE BARBARIANS. 39 

You may remember that in yesterday's lecture I mentioned the 
Barbaric Codes. The institutions and laws to "wliich these northern 
nations conformed existed long before they were reduced into form 
and writing ; but this was at last done. They were enlarged, amend- 
ed, and altered by diiferent princes. Some general knowledge of 
them must be obtained. 

There are observations by Mr. Gibbon on these laws ; there are 
some chapters in Montesquieu. It might be thought sufficient to 
refer to the remarks of these great writers; but on this, as on all 
other occasions, some labor must be endured ; the reader would re- 
ceive from them a very general and imperfect impression, and that 
impression would soon pass away. The Codes themselves must be, 
at least in part, perused ; but, before this is attempted, we should 
refer to the History of Gibbon, and afterwards to Htnault's Abridg- 
ment of the History of France, so as to become somewhat acquaint- 
ed with the names and characters of the princes mentioned in these 
codes, in the prefaces to them, and in the Capitularies that follow 
them ; and sliould then, and not before, begin our survey of the vol- 
umes in which these Barbaric laws and institutions are contained. 
They are published by Lindenbrogius ; his work is easily met with. 
The work of Baluze contains the Capitulai-ies ; this work, too, can 
be everywhere found. 

The Capitularies were the laws or proclamations of diiferent 
princes in succession, from Clovis to Hugh Capet ; and these, with 
the Codes, indicate the character of the nations and governments to 
which they belong, from the earliest time. Now it is impossible for 
me to attempt any examination of these systems of law in tliis course 
of lectures, or for any one in any course of lectures, unless they 
were given for that precise purpose ; but I had hoped, I must con- 
fess, that some of the leading laws of each code might be exhibited 
by me, so as to give some general idea of the whole. After spend- 
ing, however, many hours on the work of Lindenbruch, and drawing 
up a detail, with such observations as I had conceived would enable 
my hearer to carry away the leading points of each code, and the 
differences by which they were distinguished from one another, I 
found, upon a revisal of what I had done, that the whole was a mass 
too unwieldy to be here produced, even though drawn up in the most 
summary way, and that, at all events, the subject must be treated in 
some other manner. Upon looking, too, at these immense volumes, 
it was but too evident that a very small portion of them could ever 
be read by the historical student ; yet it is perfectly necessary that 
some idea sliould be formed of them, or the history of Europe and 
the character of its inhabitants cannot be properly understood. 

What I propose, therefore, to the student is this : to select from 
the rest the Salique Code, and, as it is short, I recommend it to be 
read through entirely. It is impossible, from the perusal of it, that a 



40 LECTURE II. 

strong impression should not be left on the mind of the nature and char- 
acter of our Barbaric ancestors. And with respect to the other codes, 
it appears to me that a very sufficient idea of these may be formed, if 
the student will turn over the leaves of these codes and examine them 
with respect to the following points : — 1st, By whom the laws were 
made ; 2d, Wliat were their criminal punishments ; 3d, What were the 
laws respecting the recovery of debts ; 4th, What respecting the 
transmission of property ; 5th, What Avith respect to the female sex ; 
6th, What with respect to the liberty of the subject, — the laws of 
treason, for instance ; 7th, By whom the laws were administered. 

I consider an inquiry into the Barbaric codes so tedious, and yet 
so important, that, to illustrate my meaning, and to make some at- 
tempt at least of my own with respect to them, I will venture to tres- 
pass a little upon my hearers' patience, and take a survey of the Sa- 
lique code, for instance, in the manner which I conceive the student 
may himself adopt with respect to the remaining codes. Thus, — 

1st. By whom was this Salique code drawn up and enacted ? — The 
answer to this inquiry may be found in the prefaces, which are on the 
whole curious and striking. The nation, in this preface to the Salique 
code, seems to speak for itself, and to be animated, like other nations, 
with a very sincere opinion of its own merits. It is renowned, it seems, 
founded by the Deity, profound in counsel, with every other noble and 
excellent quality ; and it is added, in a manner that must be considered 
as characteristic of the times, that " it is entirely free from heresy." 
For this nation, then, the Salique code seems to have been drawn up at 
an early period, and before the existence of royalty among them, " per 
proceres illius gentis, qui tunc temporis ejusdem aderant rectores." 
Four chiefs, and four villages,* their residence, are mentioned. The 
law seems afterwards to have been improved by Clovis, Childebert, and 
Clotaire, This is stated ; and then follows a state-prayer which is more 
than usually modest : — " Vivat qui Francos diligit, Christus eorum 
regnum custodiat," &c. ; and the whole concludes with a statement of 
the merits, civil and theological, of the nation : they appear, indeed, to 
have been considerable : — " Hoec est enim gens, quae parva dum esset 
numero, fortis robore et valida, durissimum Romanorum jugum de suis 
cervicibus excussit pugnando," &c. The whole must be considered as 
breathing a very bold spirit of national liberty, and the authority on 
which the whole was rested seems to have been that of the nation and 
its rulers, mutually cooperating for the common good. The legislature 
seems afterwards to have been the monarchs and their free assembhes. 
— So much for the first question, By whom the laws were made. 

* In the Preface to the Salique Code, here quoted, foxtr chiefs, but only three villages, 
are mentioned : — " Wisogastus, Bodogastus, Salogastus, et Widogastiis, in loeis cog- 
nominatis Salehaim, Bodoliaim, Widohaim." It might be conjcctxn-ed that in this 
enumeration of villages there was an accidental omission of one name, were it not that 
the same enumeration is found also in the Prologue; and again, with slight variations in 
the form of the names, in the Prolegomena of Lindenbrogius. So also in the other 
editions of this Code which have been consulted. — N. 



LAWS OF THE BARBARIANS. 41 

2d. What were the criminal punishments of the Salique code ? — 
Homicide was not capital ; a striking fact to begin mth, indicating a 
very different state of society from our own. The words of the law 
are those (p. 333): — "Si quis ingenuus Francum aut hominem 
barharum occiderit, qui lege Salica \ivit, octo denariis, qui faciunt 
solidos ducentos, culpabilis judicetur." But in the next law the pen- 
alty is tripled in case of concealment. These Barbarians, therefore, 
could distinguish the nature of different crimes ; and the fii"st law is 
only made more worthy of consideration by the second. The con- 
clusion from the whole is, that each individual of the nation was still 
an independent being, who would not suffer his life to be affected by 
any crime which he committed ; who would not submit to restraint ; 
who neither saw, nor would have regarded, the benefit that is de- 
rived to all by the submission of each man to rules calculated to 
maintain the security of life and to protect the weak. And this sin- 
gle feature gives at once an idea of the bold character of our early 
ancestors, of the fierceness of these independent warriors. Other 
crimes — those of theft, for instance — are in like manner punished 
by fines. But the cases are all mentioned, — different animals, for 
instance, hogs, sheep, goats, &c. There is commonly no general 
description. Now when legislators make laws against particular 
thefts by name, the intercourse of mankind must still be very simple. 
The distinctions of crimes were everywhere observed. To steal from 
a cottage, to the value of a denarius, was punished by a fine of fif- 
teen solidi ; and thirty, if the cottage was broken open. — So much 
for the law mth respect to criminal punishments. 

3d. Next with respect to the third point, — the provisions con- 
cerning debts and breach of covenant. — Fine was still in the first 
place the punishment; and in the fifty-second title (p. 337), a pro- 
cess is pointed out for the forcible recovery of what is due : it is, in 
the last result, to be levied and distrained by public officers. There 
is no mention of imprisonment at the mercy and call of the creditor, 
the indolent resource of more civilized nations. 

4th. With respect to the transmission of property. — The power 
of bequeathing it by testament seems not yet to have been thought 
of. The law says concerning the allodial land (p. 341), that the 
children of the deceased were to succeed ; next, the father and 
mother ; next, the brothers and sisters ; lastly, the sisters of the 
father, the aunts : * — "Si quis homo mortuus fuerit, et fiUos non 
dimiserit, si pater aut mater superfuerint," &c., &c. Then follows 
the famous restriction of the Sal, or homestead and the land immedi- 
ately around it, to the male, &c, : — " De terra vero Salica nulla 

* This abstract is imperfect. The law comprises six sections, of which only the 
first three, and the last, containing •' the fiimous restriction," cited below, are here given. 
By the fourth and fifth sections, after the sisters of the father, the sisters of the mother 
were to succeed ; and finally, in default of these, the nearest of kin on the father's side. 
See Lindenbrogius, loc. cit. — N. 

6 D * 



42 LECTURE II. 

portlo liereditatis mulieri veniat, seel ad virilem sexiim tota terrge 
hereditas perveniat." The institution, therefore, of property in land 
seems now to have been established, though not in the time of Taci- 
tus, — an important step in the civilization of mankind. But there 
seems nothing said of a power to bequeathe it by testament, at the 
will of the possessor. 

5th. Next, -with respect to the laws concerning the female sex. — 
Under the 14th head (p. 320), adultery seems to have been punished 
by a fine, but there is nothing said of divorce. Marriages within 
certain limits of consanguinity are forbidden. The conclusion from 
these provisions is, that attention was paid to the intercourse between 
the sexes. But from another part of the code the deference that 
was paid to the female sex is made very striking. Under the 32d 
head, by the 6th clause, he who accused another of cowardice was to 
be fined three solidi ; but, by the clavise preceding, they who accused 
a woman of want of chastity, and could not prove their allegation, 
were to be fined forty-five sohdi. A false imputation, therefore, on 
the chastity of a woman was made a crime of far greater importance 
than even an imputation on the courage of a man, and that man a 
Frank. The respectability of the female character, therefore, is 
clear. And there is no point of more importance to any nation than 
this ; domestic happiness, and private virtue, which is so connected 
with public virtue, all follow as a necessary consequence of the re- 
spectability of the female character, and cannot indeed otherwise exist. 

6th. "With respect to the sixth head, the laws of treason, it may be 
observed, that of treason, or offences against the state, there seems no 
notice taken. Every duty of the sort was comprehended in the general 
duty of resisting or opposing the enemies of the state by personal ser- 
vice. What is meant by civil liberty — the modification of natural 
liberty, and the relative duties and apprehensions of the ruler and the 
subject — seems scarcely to have appeared in a society like that of 
the early Franks. 

7th. Lastly, with respect to the administration of these laws. — In 
the Salique and other codes there are various officers mentioned ; su- 
perior and inferior judges ; witnesses are also mentioned ; and markets 
and public meetings, where justice seems to have been administered. 

But it must be observed that the Barbarian codes had always re- 
course to a system of fines ; it seems, therefore, reasonable to ask, 
What was done, when the ofiender had no means of paying them ? 
In a simple state of society, a fine must have been a serious punish- 
ment ; neither capital nor the precious metals could have existed in 
any aWndance. To this question the laws themselves do not supply 
any answer. 

In any particular case of homicide, when the ofiender could not 
pay, a process is pointed out for satisfaction. In the 61st head, his 
relations and friends were to answer out of their own possessions ; 



LAWS OF THE BARBARIANS. 43 

and, in the last resource, if there were none of them willing, he was 
to compound with a fine for his life. Nothing is said of imprison- 
ment or corporal punishment, which last was confined to the case of 
slaves ; and the conclusion perhaps is, (for I am left to my own con- 
jecture,) that the strong distinctions of the poor and the rich had not 
yet made their appearance, and that the fines were proportioned to 
the general Avealth of the individuals of the community, — that land 
was still easily procured, and society still in a very imperfect state. 
Charlemagne, for instance, many years after, transplanted at once 
ten thovisand Saxons and fixed them in his own territories. Much 
land was, therefore, still waste or loosely occupied. These Barbaric 
laws were, therefore, I conclude, at first intended to cxhil)it to con- 
tending individuals what might be considered as a reasonable means 
of terminating their quarrels, — what the one ought to offer, and the 
other to accept. The words of the prologue to the laws arc these : — 
" Placuit atque convenit inter Francos et eorum proceres, ut propter 
servandum inter se pacis studium, omnia incrementa veterum rixarum 
resecare deberent." In a rude state of society, individuals involved 
in their quarrel their relations and friends. These would become, in 
a certain respect, umpires of the quarrel. These laws afforded them 
a sort of rule by which they were to judge, and they would be them- 
selves disposed to enforce the observance of these rules and in some 
respects to do the office of the state. Afterwards, as the kings 
gained authority, they and their officers would be more able them- 
selves to enforce their own regulations. Efforts to do this, and the 
power of doing it, are apparent in the subsequent codes. But the 
disposition to revenge their own affronts and injuries is so natural to 
men who comprehend every merit in the virtue of personal courage, 
that centuries elapsed before our rude forefathers could be brought 
to accept any decision in their quarrels but that of their own swords. 

I must observe of this Salique code and of all the other Barbai'ian 
codes, that with respect to our first question, the great question in 
legislation. By whom are the laws made ? great dispute exists among 
antiquarians and philosophers. The power of the kings, and the 
nature and power of these first assemblies, are subjects of great de- 
bate. In this Sahque law the form and spirit and authority of the 
whole seem to have been of a very democratic nature. 

In reading all these codes, reference must continually be had to 
Tacitus. The codes and his account of the Germans mutually con- 
firm and illustrate each other. His description of their assemblies 
may be compared with this preface to the Sahque law, and with the 
accounts given of the other codes ; and on the whole, the system of 
legislation among these northern nations must be considered as 
originally of a very popular nature. 

I have taken this slight view of the Salique code in the leading 
points wliich I mentioned, for the purpose of exemplifying the man- 



44 LECTURE II. 

ner in which I conceive any system of laws may be generally con- 
sidered, more particularly those of the Barbarian codes which yet 
remain, and which it is not possible to examine but in some such 
general way. But I must not omit to observe, that, whenever the 
laws of a nation can be perused, a variety of conclusions can be 
dra^v'n from them which the laws themselves never were intended to 
convey, — conclusions that relate to the manners and situation of a 
nation, more certain and important than can in any other way be ob- 
tained. I Avill give a specimen of this sort of reasoning, and my 
hearer must hereafter employ the same sort of reasoning on these 
codes, and on every system of laws which he ever has an opportunity 
of considering. 

For instance, there is one head that respects petty thefts of differ- 
ent kinds. He who stole a knife was to be fined fifteen sohdi ; but 
though he stole as much flax as he could carry, he was fined only 
three. Iron was, therefore, difficult to procure, or its manufacture 
not easy. The fertihty of the land had done more for these Franks 
than their own patience or ingenuity ; that is, they were barbarians. 

Again, he who killed another was only fined ; but we are not to 
suppose that this arose from any superior tenderness of disposition. 
There is a distinct head in these laws (the 31st) on the subject of 
mutilations ; the very first clause runs thus : — "Si quis alteri manum 
aut pedem trvmcaverit, vel oculum effoderit, aut auriculam vel nasum 
amputaverit," &c., &c. The most horrible excesses evidently took 
place. Nothing more need be said of the manners or disposition 
of a people in whose laws such outrages are particularized. That 
union of tenderness and courage, of sympathy and fortitude, of the 
softer and severer virtues, wliich forms the perfection of the human 
character, is not to be found among savage nations ; it is only the 
occasional and inestimable production of civilized life. 

Again, there is mention made of hedges and inclosures ; agri- 
culture had, therefore, made some progress. 

But among the petty felonies there is one mentioned, — that of 
ploughing and sowing another man's land, &c. : — "Si quis campum 
alienum araverit et seminaverit," &c. : — a strange offence. Where 
was the owner ? Was he too negligent, at too great a distance, or 
too feeble to take care of his property ? Every supposition is un- 
favorable ; and the progress of agriculture and of society must have 
been still very incomplete. I conceive that there existed among 
these nations and in these times wandering savages or settlers, as 
now in the back settlements of America, that are called by the amus- 
ing name of " squatters," — a species of human locusts, that take 
possession of a piece of land without asking leave of any one, and re- 
main there till they rove away in search of better, or are driven off 
by the owner. 

But to return to the Salique law. — Cars and cart-horses, mills, 



LAWS OF THE BARBARIANS. 45 

and some of the more common occupations of life, as smiths and 
bakers, are enumerated ; some progress must, therefore, have been 
made. He who killed a Frank was fined two hundred sohdi ; he who 
killed a Roman, only one hundred ; the Roman was, therefore, in a 
state of depression. This is the sort of reasoning which my hearers 
may extend to a variety of particulars, and must already perfectly 
understand. 

In the Sahque and other codes, slaves are mentioned, male and 
female, household servants, freedmen and those who were free from 
birth, and more descriptions of persons and places and things than 
can now be well understood. Here lies the province of the anti- 
quarian, who has at least the merit of clearing the way and providing 
materials for the philosopher, and is thus, mediately or immediately, 
if possessed of any philosophic discrimination himself, an instructor 
of mankind. 

Such is, I conceive, the manner in which the Salique and the other 
remaining codes may be examined, and this I must now leave the 
student to do for himself. 

All the other codes will be found very similar in their general 
nature, but all indicating a more advanced state of society than can 
be found in the Salique code. The Burgundians, the Lombards, and 
the Visigoths had been more connected with the Romans, and their 
laws are, therefore, favorably distinguished from the codes of the 
more simple and rude Barbarians. To the law of the Burgundians 
there is a preface worth reading. Tlie preface of Lindenbrogius, 
which must by aU means be read, gives some account of the time 
and manner in which these codes were promiJgated, and to them I 
refer. In many parts of these codes the reader will perceive the 
origin of many of the forms and maxims that exist to this moment in 
the systems of European law. 

These Barbarian codes Avere followed by what are called the Ca- 
pitularies, a word signifying any composition divided mto chapters. 
These were promulgated by the subsequent monarchs, — by Cliilde- 
bert, Clotaire, Carloman, and Pepin, but above all by Charlemagne; 
succeeding princes added others. They are to be found in Linden- 
brogius ; but the best edition of them is by Baluze, in tAvo volumes, 
folio. To the Codes and to the Capitularies in Lindenbrogius and 
in Baluze are added the Formularia of Marculphus. These Formu- 
laria are the forms of forensic proceedings and of legal instruments. 
Marculphus was a monk that seems to have lived so early as 6G0 ; so 
naturally is law connected with precision and form ; and so soon, 
even before 660, was it found necessary to reduce the institutions 
and legal proceedings of rude barbarians into that sort of technical 
precision wliich is so fully exhibited in our modern practice, and 
which is found so necessary by lawyers, and considered (somewhat 
thoughtlessly) so unmeaning by others. 



46 LECTURE 11. 

All these capitularies and formularies it is not very possible — it 
may not, indeed, be very useful — for the general student to read; 
but he may look over the heads and select some few for his perusal. 
Many of them seem to be of an ecclesiastical nature, and they are 
interspersed with various state papers ; and the influence which re- 
ligion, and still more the Church, had obtained over these northern 
conquerors is evident in every page. It appears that extreme unc- 
tion, confession, and the distmguishing rites of the Romish Church, 
were early estabhshed among them ; solemn, and, indeed, very 
affecting church services, for the different trials by ordeal, and for 
the ceremonies of excommunication. Everywhere there are passages 
which, when found in legal instruments and public state papers, 
strongly mark the temper and character of the times. And it is on 
this account that a philosopher like Montesquieu, from the perusal of 
musty records hke these, can exhibit the manners and opinions of 
distant ages. 

I have thus endeavoured to introduce to your curiosity these Bar- 
baric codes. 

It might be natural to ask, What, in the mean time, became of the 
conquered nation of the Romans ? It may be answered, in a general 
manner, that they seem to have been allowed to live imder their OAvn 
laws, if they did not prefer the laws of the Barbarian state to wliich 
they belonged ; that their situation seems to have been marked by 
depression, but not to the extent that might have been expected. 
But it is impossible for me to enter further into subjects of this nature. 

There is a concise work by Mr. Butler, — " Horse Juridic^e " : to 
this I must refer ; it will be of great use in giving you information 
about the different codes and systems of law that obtained in Europe 
during these earlier ages, — such information, indeed, as few mil be 
able to collect for themselves, and yet such as every man of educar 
tion should be furnished with. Gibbon and Montesquieu, through all 
this period of history, you will refer to. But the A1)be de Mably is 
the writer who will afford you the best assistance, given neither in 
the distant, obscure manner of Gibbon, nor with the affectation and 
paradox of JNIontesquieu. 

More than I have now done on the subject of this lecture I cannot 
venture to attempt. I have already sufficiently trespassed upon your 
patience in calling here your attention to topics which are fit only for 
the student in the closet, and which can be comprehended only by 
the steady perusal of the very books I am recommending, books 
which I am to suppose at present unknown to you ; and on the whole, 
therefore, I must content myself, if you bear away from the lecture 
these following general impressions : — 

1st, then (proceeding in a reverse order). That some knowledge 
should be obtained of the Barbaric codes, and that the Sahque law 
may be taken as a specimen ; some knowledge, likewise, of the sys- 



LAWS OF THE BARBARIANS. 47 

terns of law under which the Romans then lived ; and that Butler may 
be referred to, — his " Ilorae Juridicne." 

2dlj. That the different subjects I have mentioned, the reigns of 
Clovis, Pepin, Charlemagne, of chivalry, &c., &c., are those to wliich 
you had best direct your attention in the study of the Dark Ages : 
select them, I mean, and study them in preference to others. 

3dly. That these Dark Ages must be studied, because you ought 
to know what has been the original formation of the character of the 
European individual, and of the European governments ; how they 
came to exist, as you everywhere see them. 

4thly. That I conceive Butler for the outlines, and Gibbon for the 
detail, with llenault or Millot, and, lastly, with the preface to Rob- 
ertson's Charles the Fifth, will be sufficient for those who wish only 
to find the shortest possible course. 

5tlily. That the Abbe de Mably, and those books I have mentioned 
to-day, will supply ample information, and all that I can think neces- 
sary, to any historical student who is not also ambitious of the merit 
of an antiquarian. 

It is many years since I drew up this lecture which you have just 
heard. There has now appeared a History of the Middle Ages, by 
Mr. Hallam. You will there see all the subjects that occupy all the 
early part of my present course of lectures regularly discussed, and 
very ably ; I may add, too, wherever the subject admitted of it, very 
beautifully. I have been obliged, from the kno-vvn learning and tal- 
ents of the author, to look the work over, not merely for my o'\mi 
instruction in general, but to ascertain whether I had been misled 
myself by any of the books on which I had depended. You, in like 
manner, must refer to the work, and compare it with others ; for the 
author is not only very able and well informed, but a sufficiently 
scrupulous critic of the labors of his predecessors. This work may 
also be recommended to you, as exhibiting for your perusal, in a con- 
venient form, many subjects of great importance, and most of those 
we have referred to ; and you may see by his references, and may 
judge by the nature of the subjects themselves, how little you are 
likely to study them yourselves (I mean you no disrespect, I allude 
to those of you who are to engage in the business of the world), — 
to study them, I should say, with that patience and acti\ity which 
an antiquarian and philosopher, hke Mr. Hallam, though himself living 
in the world and an ornament to society, has so meritoriously and so 
remarkably displayed. 



48 LECTURE III. 



LECTURE III. 



MAHOMET. — PROGRESS OF SOCIETY. — GIBBON. 

I HAVE hitherto directed your attention to the Romans and Barba- 
rians, their collision, the fall of the Western Empire, the settlement 
of the Barbarians in the different provinces of Europe, and the dark 
ages that ensued. On these dark ages the light gradually dawned, 
till at length appeared the Revival of Learning and the Reformation. 
It is in this manner, therefore, that you have presented to you, by 
the addition of this last circumstance, a subject that is a sort of whole. 
You begin with marking the decline and depression of society, and 
you then watch its progress to a state of great comparative elevation. 

But, instead of conducting your thoughts onward from the one to 
the other, in this natural succession, I must now interrupt them, 
because the great concerns of Europe were in fact thus broken in 
upon and interrupted ; and though the whole of this interruption may 
be almost considered as a sort of episode to the main subject, I have 
no alternative but to produce it now, in its real place, and you must 
join the chain hereafter yourselves, the links of which must be con- 
sidered as thus for a certain interval separated from each other. For 
the truth is, that you will scarcely have begun to read the books that 
I have recommended, when you will be called upon to observe a most 
extraordinary revolution that had taken place in the East. 

An individual had started up amidst the sands of Arabia, had per- 
suaded his countrymen that he was the prophet of God, had contrived 
to combine in his service two of the most poAverful passions of the 
human heart, — the love of glory here, and the desire of happiness 
hereafter ; and, triumphant in liimself and seconded by his followers, 
had transmitted a faith and an empire that at length extended through 
Asia, Africa, Spain, and nearly through Europe itself ; and had left 
in history a more memorable name, and on his fellow-creatures a more 
wide and lasting impression, than had ever before been produced by 
the energies of a single mind. This individual was Mahomet. 

We are invited to examine and estimate a revolution like this by 
many considerations. I will mention some of them. The learning of 
the disciples of Mahomet is at one particular period connected with 
the history of literature. The Saracens (for this is their general, 
but not very intelligible, appellation) contended with the Franks and 
Greeks for Europe, with the Latins for the Holy Land, Avith the Visi- 
goths for Spain. The Caliphs, or successors of the Arabian Prophet, 
were possessed of Syria, Persia, and Egypt, and through different 
eras of their power exhibited the most opposite prodigies of simplicity 



MAHOMET. 49 

and magnificence. These are powerful claims on our attention. The 
Turks, who became converts to the rehgion of Mahomet, gradually 
swelled into a great nation, obtained a portion of Europe, and have 
materiallj influenced its liistory. 

If we turn from the descendants of Mahomet to Mahomet himself, 
we must observe, that his religion professed to be derived from divine 
inspiration, and is, from its very pretensions, entitled to the examina- 
tion of every rational being. To be unacquainted with this religion 
is to be ignorant of the faith of a large dinsion of mankind. An 
inquiry into the rise and propagation of it will amplify our knowledge 
of human nature ; and an attention to the life of the Prophet may 
enlarge our comprehension of the many particular varieties of the 
human character. The religion of Mahomet has, in the last place, 
often been compared with the religion of Christ ; and the success of 
the Koran has been adduced to weaken the argument that is drawn 
from the propagation of the Gospel. 

If such, therefore, be the subject before us, it is evidently sufficient 
to awaken our curiosity, and we may be grateful to those meritorious 
scholars who have saved us from the necessity of pursuing our in- 
quiries through the volumes of the original authors. The Arabic 
writers have been translated ; and the interesting occupation of a few 
Aveeks, or even days, may now be sufficient to satisfy our mind on 
topics that might otherAvise have justly demanded the labor of years. 

With respect, then, to the books that are to be read, I would pro- 
pose to you, in the first place, to turn to the work of Sale, — Sale's 
Koran ; — read the preface and his preliminary dissertation, con- 
sulting, at the same time, his references to the Koran. Of the Koran 
you may afterwards read a few chapters, to form an idea of the whole. 
And as it is a code of jurisprudence to the Mussulman, as well as a 
theological creed, you may easily, by referring to the index, collect 
the opinions and precepts of Mahomet on all important points. You 
may then turn to the Life of Mahomet by Prideaux, and, on the same 
subject, to the Modern Universal History ; you may then read the 
fiftieth chapter of Mr. Gibbon, and close with the Bampton Lectures 
of Professor White. 

Prideaux, and the authors of the Modern History, you will proba- 
bly think unreasonably eager to expose the faults of the Prophet, and 
you will surely be attracted to a second consideration of the work 
of Sale by the candor, the reasonableness, and the great knowledge 
of the subject, which that excellent author appears everywhere to dis- 
play. 

These works, however, v,i\\ but the better prepare you to discern 
the merit of the splendid and complete account which Mr. Gibbon 
has given of the Arabian legislator and prophet. The historian has 
descended on this magnificent subject in all the fulness of liis strength. 
His fiftieth chapter is not without his characteristic faults, but it has 
7 E 



50 LECTURE III. 

all his merits ; and to approach the account of Mahomet and the 
Caliphs in Gibbon, after travelling through the same subject in the 
volumes of the Modern History, is to pass through the different re- 
gions of the country whose heroes these authors have described ; it 
is to turn from the one Arabia to the other, — from the sands and 
rocks of the wilderness to the happy land of fertility and freshness, 
where every landscape is luxuriance, and every gale is odor. 

The Bampton Lectures have received very unqualified approbation 
from the public, and have won the more cold and limited, and there- 
fore -more decisive, praise of Mr. Gibbon. The estimate of the 
student will probably be found between the two, — much beyond the 
latter, and much within the former. There is not all the information 
given which the knowledge of Professor White might and ought to 
have afforded. The references to the Arabic authors should have 
been translated and produced. The whole is written, not in the 
spirit of a critic and a judge, but of an eloquent advocate rejoicing 
to run his course, from a confidence in the arguments which he dis- 
plays. The style is always too full and sounding, afid the argument 
itself is often robbed of its due effect from a want of that simplicity 
of statement, so natural, so favorable to the cause of truth. Yet 
these celebrated discourses cannot fail of accomplishing their end, 
of enforcing upon the reader the general evidence of his own faith, 
and of animating his mind with the contrast between the rehgion of 
the Koran and that of the Gospel, between Mahomet and Jesus, — the 
contrast between falsehood and truth, between the fierce and polluted 
passions of the earth and the pure and perfect holiness of heaven. 

I had intended briefly to state the leading points of the life 
and religion of Mahomet ; but I would rather that the guides I have 
mentioned should conduct you through the whole of a subject 
which is, in fact, too interesting and important to be touched upon in 
a general or summary manner. The effect of inquiry will be materi- 
ally to diminish the general impression of wonder with which every 
reflecting mind must have originally surveyed a triumph of imposture 
so extensive as that of Mahomet. The causes of his success have 
been well explained by the authors I have mentioned. Yet, gifted 
as he was with every mental and personal qualification, and highly 
assisted in his enterprise by the moral and political situation of his 
countrymen, the student cannot fail to observe how slow and painful 
was the progress of his empii-e and religion. After becoming afflu- 
ent at an early period of life, he continued fifteen years in habits of 
occasional sohtude and meditation. He was three years in effecting 
the conversion of his wife, his slave, his cousin, and eleven others ; 
he was ten years employed in extending the number of his disciples 
within the walls of Mecca. This long interval (twenty-eight years) 
had elapsed, before the guardians of the established idolatry were 
duly alarmed, and proceeded, from opposition, at last to attempt his 



MAHOMET. 51 

life. After fl^^ng from Mecca, and being received and protected at 
Medina, it was six years before he could again approach his native 
city ; two more, before he could establish there his sovereignty and 
his worship ; and two more, before the various tribes of Arabia could 
be brought to acknowledge him for their prophet. On several occor 
sions, the fate of himself and of his religion hung on the most waver- 
ing and doubtful balance. It was not Mahomet who conquered the 
East, but his successors ; and had he not attached to his fortunes 
and fiiith a few men of singular virtues and extraordinary military 
ta,lents, his name and his religion might have perished with him, and 
the Arabians, at his death, might have relapsed into their former 
habits of loose political association, and of blind, unthinking idol- 
atry. 

To Mahomet, indeed, his success must have appeared complete. 
Arabia must have been the natural boundary of his thoughts ; and 
every thing in Arabia he had conquered, and it was his own : he was 
become the great chief of his nation, and he held a still dearer 
empire over tteir feelings and their faith : he was the leader of an 
innncible army, but he was more than an earthly conqueror ; he was 
considered as the prophet of God ; mere humanity was below him. 
It was at this moment of his elevation, when he was preparing to 
extend his temporal and spiritual dominion to Syria, that the angel 
of death was at hand to close his eyes for ever on the prospects of 
human greatness, and to remove him to the presence of that awful 
Being whose laws he had violated, whose name he had abused, and 
whose creatures he had deceived. 

That an enthusiast like Mahomet should arise in Arabia can be no 
matter of surprise. The nation itself was of a temperament highly 
impetuous and ardent, unaccustomed to the severer exercises of the 
understanding, the inquiries of science, and the acquisition of knowl- 
edge, devoted only to eloquence and poetry, the impulses of the 
passions, and the visions of the imagination. An enthusiast, like 
himself, had arisen and been destroyed a little before his death ; 
another, soon after. In the time of the Caliphs, after an interval of 
two hundred and sixty years, appeared the Arabian preacher Car- 
m.ath. He too, like Mahomet, made his converts, dispersed his 
apostles amongst the tribes of the desert, and they Avere everywhere 
successful. The Carmathians were sublimed mto the same fanatical 
contempt of death and devotion to their chiefs as had been before 
the followers of Mahomet. They overran Arabia, trampled upon 
Mecca, and were one of the effective causes of the dechne and fall 
of the Caliphs. 

]\Iore temperate climates, more civilized countries, than those of 
the East, even times improved like ovu' own, have witnessed the rise, 
and, to a certain degree, success, of enthusiasts who have made con- 
siderable approaches to the pretensions of Mahomet. The German 



52 LECTURE III, 

Sweclenborg* entirely equalled him in his claims on the credulity of 
mankind ; he affirmed distinctly, that he had a regular communica- 
tion with heaven. Like other enthusiasts, he was unable to prove 
his mission ; but he convinced liimself, and had his converts in differ- 
ent parts of Europe. 

Of Mahomet, as of others, it is often asked whether he was an 
enthusiast or an impostor. He was both. In men like him the 
characters are never long separated. It is the essence of enthusiasm 
to overrate its end, to overvalue its authority ; all means are there- 
fore easily sanctified that can accomplish its purposes. Imposture 
is only one amongst others ; and as it is the nature of enthusiasm at 
the same time to overlook the distinctions of reason and propriety, 
what is or what is not imposture is not always discerned, nor would 
be long regarded, if it were. 

The designs of Mahomet are often supposed to have originated 
early in life, and to have been formed from a long, comprehensive, 
and profound meditation on the situation of his countrymen and the 
nations of the East. It is not thus that great changes in the affairs 
of men are produced ; it is not thus that the founders of dynasties, 
the authors of revolutions, and the conquerors of the world proceed. 
Men like these are formed, not only by original temperament and 
genius, but by situation and by the occasion ; their ideas open with 
their circumstances, their ambition expands with their fortune ; they 
are gifted with the prophetic eye that can see the moment that is 
pregnant with the future ; they are distinguishable by the faculty 
that discerns what is really impossible from what only appears to be 
so ; they can avail themselves of the powers and capacities of every 
thing around them ; the time, the place, the circumstances, the soci- 
ety, the nation, all are at the proper instant understood, and wielded 
to their purpose. They are the rapid, decisive, fearless, and often 
desperate rulers of inferior minds ; not the calm reasoners or pro- 
found contrivers of distant schemes of aggrandizement, seen through 
a long series of concatenated events, — events which, as they well 
know, are ever hable to be disturbed by the ceaseless agitations and 
business of human life, and the unexpected interference of occurren- 
ces, which it may be their fortune, indeed, and their wisdom, to seize 
and employ, but which they cannot possibly produce or foresee. 

The propagation of the faith of Mahomet by his generals and 
friends, the conquest of Syria, Persia, Africa, and Spain, the differ- 
ent empires of the Caliphs, and all that is important in the learning 
of their subjects, or in their own magnificence and decline, may be 
collected from Gibbon. To the same masterly author we may refer 
for the impression made on Hindostan by Mahomet of Gazna, and 
the fluctuating history and final success of the Turks. These sub- 

* The epithet " German" is misapplied here. Swedenborg was a native and subject 
of Sweden. — N. 



MAHOMET. 53 

jects, striking and important in their main events, cannot well be 
endured in all the tame and minute detail of the writers of the 
IModern History. The very curious histoiy of the Saracens given by 
Ockley should be consulted, and is somewhat necessary to enable the 
student more exactly to comprehend the character of the Arabians, 
Avhich is there displayed, by their own writers, in all its singulari- 
ties. The siege of Damascus, for instance, may be selected ; it is 
related by Ockley, illuminated by Gibbon, dramatized by Hughes, 
and it may, therefore, exercise the philosophy, the taste, and the 
imagination of a discerning reader. 

The empires of the East bowed before the concentrated tribes of 
Arabia, Avho passed over them with all the force and rapidity of a 
whii'lwind ; these new centaurs it was equally impossible to face, as 
they advanced, or pursue, as they retreated. It is true, that these 
eastern empires were at the time particularly imfitted to sustain any 
powerful attack ; but what could have been opposed to the natives 
of the desert, educated in the most tremendous habits of privation and 
activity, and in habits, still more tremendous, of fanaticism and fury? 

To give one instance out of a thousand that must have existed. — 
" Repose yourself," said Derar ; " you are fatigued by fighting with 
this dog." — " He that labors to-day," rephed Caled, " shall rest in 
the world to come, shall rest to-morrow." — " Great God ! " said 
Akbah, as he spurred his horse into the Atlantic, " if I were not 
stopped by this sea, I would still go on and put to the sword the re- 
belhous nations that worship any other gods than thee." — " God is 
victorious," said Ah four hundred times in a nocturnal combat, as 
each time he cut down an infidel. Such were the generals. — "I 
see the Houries looking upon me," said an Arabian youth ; " and 
there is one that beckons me, and calls, 'Come hither!'" — and, 
with these words, he charged the Christians everywhere, making 
havoc till he was struck down and expired. — " Fight ! " " Para- 
dise ! " " God is victorious ! " — these were the shouts of war. Such 
were the soldiers. — And ^vhile such was the army, the battle might 
be bloody, but the victory was certain. 

The transmission of the faith of Mahomet pure and unadulterated, 
the same faith which he originally delivered, is, no doubt, remark- 
able ; and the absence of any clerical order among the Moslems, and 
the union of the regal and sacerdotal characters in the commanders 
of the faithful, may perhaps explain this striking phenomenon. But 
the continuance of the rehgion at all, as it is not founded in truth, is 
deserving of regard. It must be remembered, that it gained pos- 
session of the eastern nations, and subsisted several centuries under 
the Caliphs, with whose power it was identified. It was easily propa- 
gated among the wandering conquerors of the East, — men without 
knowledge and without reflection, whose rehgious creeds were readily 
formed, slightly considered, and loosely held, and whose military and 

E* 



64 LECTURE III. 

arbitrary government indisposed and disabled them from all exercise 
of their reason in the search of truth. The Koran must also be con- 
sidered as not only a religious, but a civil code. To alter, therefore, 
the religion of a Mahometan is to alter his opinions, habits, and feel- 
ings, — to give him a new character, a new nature. Add to this, 
that the intolerant expressions and precepts of the Koran have been 
so improved upon by the followers of Mahomet, that the great char- 
acteristic of their religion is, and has been long, a deadly hostility 
and fixed contempt for the professors of every other belief. The 
Koran, therefore, when once established, was, humanly speaking, 
established for ever ; and it has now for eleven centuries occupied the 
faith of a large, but unenlightened, portion of mankind. 

But this permanency of the religion and institutions of Mahomet 
has been in every respect a misery to his disciples and a misfortune 
to the human race. It might have been possible for Mahomet to 
mould the simplicity and independence of the Arabians into some 
form of government favorable to the civil liberty of his followers 
and to the improvement of their character and happiness ; but no 
speculations of this kind seem ever to have approached his mind ; all 
ci\dl and ecclesiastical power was united in his own person, and he 
left it, without further reflection, to be the portion of his succes- 
sors. The result has been fatal to his disciples ; their caliphs and 
sultans have been the leaders of fanatics, or the now arbitrary, now 
trembling, rulers of soldiers and janizaries ; but they have never 
enjoyed the far more elevated distinction of the Hmited monarchs of 
a free people. The East has, therefore, made no advance ; it is still 
left in a state of inferiority to Europe, and it has derived from Ma- 
homet no accession of wisdom or vigor to regenerate its inhabitants, 
or save them from the enterprise and plunder of the West. In vain 
did he destroy the idols of his countrymen and sublime their faith to 
the worship of the one true God ; in vain did he inculcate compassion 
to the distressed, alms to the needy, protection and tenderness to the 
widow and the orphan. He neither abolished nor discountenanced 
polygamy ; and the professors of liis faith have thus been left the do- 
mestic tyrants of one half of their own race. He taught predestinar 
tion ; and they have thus become, by their crude application of his 
doctrine, the victims of every natural disease and calamity. He 
practised intolerance ; and they are thus made the enemies of the 
civihzed world. He permitted the union of the regal and sacerdotal 
offices, and he made the book of his religion and legislation the same. 
All alteration, therefore, among the Mahometans must have been 
thought impiety ; lost in the scale of thinking beings, they have ex- 
hibited famihes without society, subjects without freedom, govern- 
ments without security, and nations without improvement. For 
centuries they have continued the destroyers of others, and been 
destroyed themselves, — the ministers and the victims of cruelty and 



PROGRESS OF SOCIETY. 55 

death ; and even when appearing in their most promising form of an 
established European empire, such has been their bigoted attachment 
to their Koran, that they have been contented to dechne and fall 
with the progress of improvement in surrounding nations, to see their 
military science become contemptible, their strength unwieldy, their 
courage stagnate without hope or effort, and even their virtues lan- 
guish, if possible, without respect or use. 

The student may now once more make a pause, and return to con- 
sider the state of Europe at this particular period. The nations of 
the West have been the objects of his attention, and he has been 
called aside to observe the appearance of a great revolution that had 
taken place in the East ; and supposing him now to renew his specu- 
lations with respect to the happiness of mankind, there seems little to 
afford him any pleasure for the present, or any hope for the future. 
This interference of the followers of Mahomet from the East in the 
affairs of Europe can only give the prospect a new and additional 
gloom ; their religion is not true, their civil polity is destructive to 
liberty. Most fortunately, they have, indeed, been driven back by 
Charles INIartel and the Franks ; but they may ultimately make some 
permanent and considerable settlement in the western woi-ld, which 
can in no case be favorable to its interests. 

But Avhat, in the mean time, has been the fate of Europe itself? 
The student will recollect the hopes with which we entered on its 
history at the accession of Clovis. The Christian religion, the 
Roman arts, literature, and law, might have tempered and improved, 
it had been fondly supposed, the bold independence and simple vir- 
tues of the Barbarian character ; and the result might have been that 
mixture of freedom and restraint, of natural reason and divine illumi- 
nation, which gives the last finish and perfection to the dignity and 
happiness of human nature. How different, how melancholy, has 
been the event ! We are now supposed to have travelled through 
five centuries, and there is no liberty, no knowledge, and no reHgion. 
Instead of liberty, there has grown up the feudal system ; instead of 
knowledge, darkness has overspread the land, and thick darkness the 
people ; and instead of reUgion, there has arisen a long train of cere- 
monies and observances, and the empire of the priest, in the odious 
sense of the word, has been estabhshed over the conscience and the 
happiness of his blind and unresisting votaries. 

All this is surely mournful to behold, yet it is all in the natural 
order of tilings ; the speculation that hoped otherwise was inattentive 
to the great laws of human nature. A state of natural liberty, for 
example, implies a state of ignorance ; and the result of both cannot, 
in the fii'st instance, be civil hberty. Of the same ignorance, in like 
manner, the result cannot be religion ; the result can be only super- 
stition. Religion, even if, by peculiar interposition, it had been re- 
ceived pure, would soon be disfigured and corrupted, and become a 



56 LECTURE III. 

gross and comfortless system of blind devotion. It must be ever 
thus. They who would indispose men to all restraint prepare them, 
not for civil liberty, but for mutual violence, to end, at length, in 
submission to some military leader, or in the tyranny of a few. 
They, in like manner, who Avould keep men in ignorance, the better 
to inchne them to the observances of religion, prepare them for super- 
stition, and not for the reasonable sacrifice of the heart ; and as igno- 
rance in the hearer must be followed by ignorance and usurpation 
in the teacher, the priest and the people will each in their turn con- 
tribute to the debasement of the other. 

Abandoning, therefore, all our former expectations of the happy 
effects that were on a sudden to arise from that new mixture of civil- 
ized and uncivihzed life which took place in Europe on the conquest 
and settlement of the northern nations, we must now be only anxious 
to observe how the evils that had been established gradually softened, 
or were at length covmteracted, by attendayit causes of good ; how 
the clouds cleared away that overhung these Middle Ages ; how the 
interests of society became at last progressive, lost and hopeless as 
at this melancholy period they certainly appeared. 

The great evils that existed, the great objects of attention, are the 
Feudal System and the Papal Power. As we read the facts of his- 
tory, we may be enabled to observe the more obvious effects of these 
two great calamities by which mankind were oppressed ; but we must 
carefidly recollect that far more was suffered than history can possibly 
express. History can exhibit an emperor, like Henry the Fourth of 
Germany, barefooted and in penance for three winter days before the 
palace of the Pope ; or a feudal lord, like Earl Warren, producing 
his sword as the title-deeds of his estate ; but history cannot enter 
into the recesses of private life, and can by no means delineate what 
was daily and hourly suffered by the inhabitants of the towns or 
country from the unrestrained and uncivilized usurpation of the feudal 
lords, from " the oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely." 
Still less can liistory describe the more obscure and silent, but not 
less dreadfid, effects of ecclesiastical despotism ; the hopeless, yet pro- 
tracted, languor of some mistaken victim of creduhty in the odious 
cell of a monastery ; or all that was suffered by the terrified imagina- 
tion of him who had incurred the censures of the Church or the over- 
whelming evils of excommunication. Even if we suppose the slave 
no longer to complain, and the monk no longer to feel, still, that de- 
struction of the faculties, that debasement of the nature, which is so 
complete as to be unperceived by the individual himself, is on that 
very account but a more deserving object of our compassion : the 
maniac who dances heedless in his chains but awakens our pity the 
more. 

We must now, therefore, observe, as we proceed in history, that 
whatever advanced the authority of either the feudal system or the 



PROGRESS OF SOCIETY. 57 

Papal power was, on the whole, unfavorable to the interests of man- 
kind ; whatever has a contrary tendency should be watched and ex- 
amined with the greatest anxiety, for it is the only hope of future 
improvement. 

Now it often happens in human affairs, that the evil and the rem- 
edy grow up at the same time ; the remedy unnoticed, and, at a 
distance, scarce visible, perhaps, above the earth ; while the evil 
may shoot rapidly mto strength, and alone catch the eye of the ob- 
server by the immensity of its shadow and the fulness of its luxuri- 
ance. The eternal law, however, which imposes change upon all 
things, insensibly produces its effect, and a subsequent ago may be 
enabled to mark how the one declined and the other advanced ; how 
the hfe and the vigor were gradually transferred ; and how return- 
ing spring seemed no longer to renew the honors of the one, while it 
summoned into progress and maturity the promise and perfection of 
the other. No more useful exercise can be offered to us than to 
trace, if possible, the opposite successions of alterations like these. 
As we read modern history, for a few centuries from the success of 
the northern nations, we shall be doomed to observe the shades of 
tyranny, temporal and spiritual, deepening as we advance ; but the 
light will at last begin to ghmmer, then to be faintly discernible, at 
length be found distinctly to approach us, and in a few centuries 
more to break forth from the clouds, and the day appear. 

Witnessing, as we ourselves have done, what the mind of man is 
capable of performing in literature and science, seeing what enjoy- 
ment his nature is fitted to receive from the intercourse of polished 
and social life, it is mth. the most comfortless sensations tliat we 
survey the situation of mankind at this dark period of their history, 
and with the most intolerable impatience that we travel through the 
long and at last but too imperfect struggle which literature and 
science, freedom and religion, had to maintain with ignorance, 
slavery, and superstition. This interesting subject has been, in part, 
mvestigated by Dr. Robertson, — one of those few writers who can 
furnish himself with the learning of an antiquarian, and then exhibit 
it in a form and in a compass that admits of a perusal even amid 
the business and amusements of modern life. Never advancing in 
his text more than is necessary, his proofs and illustrations are not 
doubtful and impei^fect, such as the reader understands with diffi- 
culty and assents to with hesitation, but concise and satisfactory ; all 
appears reasonable, unembarrassed, and complete, — the diligence of 
a scholar, with the good sense of a man of business and of the 
world. The dissertation prefixed to his Charles the Fifth deserves 
the study of, and is accessible to, almost every reader. 

If there be any (and some there may) who are repulsed by what 
is called, in familiar language, the dryness of the subject, they may 
suspend this inquiry for a season, and repeat the experiment here- 



58 LECTURE III. 

after. The studies of men alter as tliey advance in life, — alter 
rapidly ; tlie tliouglits of youth are not those of a maturer period ; 
time, that improves us not in many respects, improves us materially 
in some ; by mitigating the rage for the more selfish and violent 
pleasures, it renders the mind accessible to more calm and dignified 
anxieties ; and many a man, who, in all the insolence of youthful 
hope and health and gayety, had thought of little but himself, may, 
in a few years, think of others and of mankind, and pursue with due 
interest the fortunes of his species through the pages of Robertson 
or of Stuart, of Smith, of Montesquieu, or of Hume. 

From Robertson a very full and distinct idea may be formed of 
the unhappy effects which the feudal system produced on the inhab- 
itants of the town and the country, and particularly of the extent 
and violence to which the practice of private war was carried by the 
greater and lesser barons, the unhappy influence of so disordered a 
state of society on science and the arts, on knowledge and religion, 
on the characters and virtues of the human mind. He wiU then see 
delineated the salutary effect which the Crusades had on the man- 
ners, and the state of property ; and he will see noticed, also, their 
commercial effect. The next cause of improvement which the his- 
torian points out is the rise and establishment of free cities, commu- 
nities, and corporations ; and he shows the happy alteration which 
they effected in the condition of the people, in the power of the no- 
bihty, in the power of the crown, and in the general industry of the 
community ; how this effect was still increased, as the inhabitants of 
cities became gradually possessed of political authority ; how it was 
still more widely extended with the extension of commerce, and Avith 
the science which was caught from the Greeks and Arabians ; how 
men were softened and refined by chivalry ; and how the administra- 
tion of justice was made more regular, and society rendered capable 
of still further improvement, by the gradual abolition of private war 
and the judicial combat, by the introduction of appeals from the 
courts of the barons, and by the introduction of the canon and Ro- 
man law. 

After Robertson, the work of Gilbert Stuart should be diligently 
searched. And here, for the first time, the reader will meet with 
observations injurious to the fame and authority of Dr. Robertson. 
Yet that fame and authority are, on the whole, rather confirmed than 
weakened by the animadversions of Stuart ; for, with great abihty 
and learning, and with great eagerness to find fault, his objections 
are, after all, but few, and of no decisive importance. He detracts 
not, he says, from the diligence of Dr. Robertson, whose laborious- 
ness is acknowledged ; and his remark, or accusation rather, is, 
that the Doctor's " total abstinence from all ideas and inventions of 
his own permitted him to carry an undivided attention to other 
men's thoughts and speculations." Dr. Stuart forgets, that to take 



PROGRESS OF SOCIETY. 59 

an extensive view, and to form a rational estimate of the facts and 
opinions before him, is a considerable part, if not the whole, of the 
merit that can be required in an historian ; that an historian, though 
he may be more, should in the first place be a guide, and that men 
of invention and speculation are of all guides the least to be trusted. 

Two thirds of Stuart's work consists of notes ; and this, I must 
observe, is the only way in which any estimate can be given of the 
situation of society at any particular period. Nothing should be 
laid down in a text that cannot be directly proved or fairly imphed 
from some original document referred to or quoted in the notes. 
Views of society are, other^^'ise, views only of an author's own in- 
genuity and sentiments ; and whoever consults the authorities to 
which our most established writers appeal will not always find their 
representations justified, especially when these historians have, Avhat 
Dr. Stuart so much admires, ideas and jiotions of their own. His- 
torians, also, are far too apt to copy each other. The student should 
therefore consult, in several instances, the references of a writer ; 
and he can then form an opinion to what confidence he is entitled. 
It is scarcely possible that the %dgilance of an author should not 
sometimes relax, or his discernment be sometimes clouded. 

From the work of Dr. Stuart the student will derive information 
respecting the rise of chivalry and of the feudal system ; the differ- 
ent characters which belonged to these institutions at two different 

... 
periods ; what he esteems their original grandeur and virtue, and 

what every one must esteem their subsequent debasement and cor- 
ruption ; and he concludes with remarking upon the alterations 
that followed in the mihtary system and in the manners of society. 
The mind of the author is, no doubt, vigorous, and his learning 
great ; we see, too, in his representation of the favorable periods of 
chivalry and the feudal system, strong marks of that eloquence 
which was displayed in the defence of the unfortunate Mary. 

The view which Dr. Robertson has taken of the progress of soci- 
ety is marked, according to Stuart, by a variety of omissions. I 
shall venture, however, to propose once more to the consideration of 
my hearers the still more contracted estimate of this great subject 
which I have already mentioned. The leading and important evils 
of mankind, I must still contend, became at last the feudal system 
and the Papal power; the attention, therefore, may be fixed, as I 
conceive, chiefly on these. Whatever had a tendency to break up 
and dissipate the power so collected was fiivorable to the interests of 
mankind, and the contrary. All healthful motion and activity were, 
by these two great causes of evil, excluded from society ; military 
exercises and church ceremonies were the only result ; and whatever 
withdrew the human mind into any new direction could not fail to 
assist tlie progress of general improvement. I will say a word, and 
but a word, on each. 



60 LECTURE III. 

With respect, then, first, to the feudal power. This feudal power 
lay in the great lords, and in the king, as the greatest of those lords. 
In England the situation of things was not exactly the same as in 
the rest of Europe, from the greater influence of the crown : but in 
general it may be said, that whatever shook and scattered the power 
of the great barons was favorable to civil liberty, even if the power 
was, in the event, to be transferred entirely to the king ; it was less 
injurious, thus single, than when multiplied among the lords ; and 
there was always a probability, that, in the course of the struggle, 
the commons might come in for a part, if not the whole, of the share 
that belonged to them. 

The great cause, then, of the improvement of society during these 
centuries was the rise and progress of Commerce ; for the great 
point to be attained was the elevation of the lower orders. Both 
the crown and the barons yere sufficiently ready, each of them, to 
employ the lower orders against the other. Consequence was there- 
fore given to tliis oppressed race of men, and immunities and privi- 
leges were afforded to them, more particularly in the to-wns and 
cities. The result was commerce, which again added to the conse- 
quence they had before acquired. 

As the towns and cities were on various accounts materially 
leagued with the cro^vn, the power of the barons was thus, on the 
whole, assaulted from without. But it was also attacked and wasted 
from -SYithin. A taste was gradually introduced for the more elegant 
and expensive enjojinents of life, and the barons could not spend 
their revenues on themselves, and at the same time on their retain- 
ers, — at once on articles of luxury, and in rude hospitality. The 
number of their retainers was therefore diminished, — that is, their 
power and political importance. The whole subject has been admira- 
bly explained by Smith in his third book of the Wealth of Nations, 
and I depend on your reading it ; leaving here a blank in my lec- 
tures, which you must yourselves fill up. It would be an improper 
use of your time to offer you here, in an imperfect manner, what 
can be afforded you, and far better afforded you, by the study of 
this very masterly part of his celebrated work. A great part of 
Smith's reasonings had appeared in the History of Hume. These 
two eminent philosophers — for on the subjects of political economy 
and morals they deserve the name — had, no doubt, in their mutual 
intercourse, enhghtened and confirmed the inquiries and conclusions 
of each other. 

The Crusades are considered by authors in general, and by Dr. 
Robertson, as a powerful cause of the improvement of society. You 
will see his reasons. And you will observe that Smith conceives, 
that, from the great waste and destruction of people and of capital, 
they must rather have retarded the progress of the greater part of 
Europe, though favorable to some Italian cities. You will perceive, 



PROGRESS OF SOCIETY. 61 

also, that Gibbon agrees with Smith. But the question is, whether 
the stock and population thus transported to Palestine would have 
been turned to any proper purposes of accumulation or improve- 
ment, if left to remain at home. At the close of his remarks on 
this subject, Mr. Gibbon appears to me to have determined this 
question not a little against himself, by a very beautiful illustration 
which he offers to his reader, after the manner of the great orator 
of anti(piity, — an illustration which at once conveys an image to the 
fancy and an argument to the understanding. " The conflagration," 
says he, " which destroyed the tall and barren trees of the forest 
gave air and scope to the vegetation of the smaller and nutritive 
plants of the soil"; that is, the Crusades destroyed the feudal 
lords, and brought forward the middle and lower orders. 

Another cause of the improvement of society was the fortune, 
whatever it might be, by which the crown became, in the great king- 
doms of Europe, hereditary. The royal power was thus rendered 
always ready to gain whatever could be lost, to proceed fz-om one 
accession to another, and to be the great and permanent reservoir 
into which the feudal authority had constantly a tendency to flow. 
I have before observed, that the power was less injurious, thus col- 
lected, than when indefinitely multiplied and exhibited in the person 
of any baron ; and that there was a probabiUty that the commons 
would receive their share, in the course of the transfer. 

With respect to the causes which shook the ecclesiastical power 
of Rome, the second great evil of society, they may be comprised in 
two words, that at this period of the world were of kindi-ed nature, 
— Heresy and Knowledge. The gradual progress of these causes, 
and their final success, may be hereafter considered. The student 
may, however, look upon either of them, whenever it appears in the 
history of these times, as the symptom and harbinger of the subse- 
quent Reformation. Ignorance and superstition are naturally allied ; 
theu" cause is common, their friends and enemies the same. The 
opposers of a barbarous philosophy are soon entangled in the mis- 
apprehensions and corruptions of an abused religion ; the spirit of 
inquiry which struggles with the one is immediately suspected of a 
secret hostility to the other. The student, as he proceeds in his 
historical course, will soon be called on to observe the Albigenses, 
the Lollards, and the Hussites, with our earlier sages and philoso- 
phers, exhibiting, amid the chains and dungeons of the Inquisition 
or of the civil power, the melancholy grandeur of persecuted truth 
and insulted genius. These first, but unfortunate, luminaries of 
Europe were, however, not lost to the world : the Reformation and 
the revival of learning at last took place ; the pillar of light contin- 
ued to march before mankind in their journey through the darkness 
of the desert, and it was in vain that the oppressor would have 
prevented their escape from their houses of bondage, or denied 



62 LECTURE III. 

them the possession of the promised land of religion, liberty, and 
knowledge. 

I conclude this general subject with observing, that the Crusades, 
while they so happily dispersed the possessions and influence of the 
great lords, and therefore so materially assisted the progress of 
society, contributed to the influence of the clergy, and that in the 
most unfavorable manner, by furnishing them with rehcs and mira- 
cles, and with new and multiplied modes of extending and confirming 
the superstition of the age. But I must at the same time remark, 
once for all, that the power which the clergy enjoyed was not always 
exercised to the injury of society ; in many most important respects 
materially otherwise. They shook the power of the barons, by con- 
triving to draw within their own jurisdiction the disputes and caus- 
es which had belonged to the feudal courts ; they had always kept 
alive in society whatever knowledge, amidst such rapine and disorder, 
could be suffered to exist ; they were the instructors of youth ; they 
were the historians of the times ; they maintained in existence the 
Latin language ; they were the only preservers of the remains of 
Greek and Roman literature ; they everywhere endeavoured to miti- 
gate and abolish slavery ; they were the most favorable landlords to 
the peasantry, to the lower orders the mildest masters ; they labored 
most anxiously and constantly to soften and abolish the system of 
private war, by establishing truces and intermissions, and by assist- 
ing the civil magistrate on every possible occasion ; they were every- 
where, in those times of violence, a description of men whose habits 
and manners were those of peace and order ; they could not profess 
such a religion as Christianity without dispensing, amidst all their 
misrepresentations, the general doctrines of purity and benevolence, 
and without being, in a word, the representatives of what learning 
and civiUzation, moderation and mercy, were yet to be found. These 
were great and transcendent merits. That their power was inordi- 
nate, and that they abused it most grossly, is but too true : a strong 
proof, if any were wanting, that power should always be suspected, 
and should be checked and divided by every possible contrivance. 
In this instance it was capable of converting into the rulers, and 
often into the tyrants, of the earth, men who breathed the precepts 
of meekness and lowliness of heart, and who continually afiirmed that 
their kingdom was not of this world. 

Such are the general views which I have been enabled to form of 
the situation and prospects of society during these Middle Ages, and 
such are the writers on whom I have depended for instruction, and to 
whose labors I must now finally refer you. 

But before I conclude my lecture, I must make a particular re- 
mark. It cannot have escaped your observation how often I have 
mentioned the historian Gibbon ; how much I leave entirely to de- 
pend upon liim ; the manner in which I refer to him, as the fittest 



GIBBON. 63 

writer to supplj you with information in all the earlier stages of 
modern history, and, indeed, as the only writer that you are likely 
to undertake to read ; add to this, that I haye already had occasion, 
and shall often hereafter have occasion, to mention his History in 
terms either of admiration or respect. Yet I cannot be supposed 
ignorant of the very material objections which exist to this History ; 
and I am certainly not at ease in recommending those parts of the 
work which I do approve, while I know there is so much, both in the 
matter and manner of the whole, and of every part of it, which I 
cannot approve. I am therefore necessitated to make some obser- 
vations on tliis celebrated writer, unfavorable as well as favorable, 
and this I must do -with a minuteness disproportionate to all unity 
and keeping in the composition of general lectures like these. I am 
compelled to do so by the nature of the audience I am addressing, 
and by the fame of the author. 

In the chapters wliich I in the first lecture referred to the faults 
of this great historian do not appear. In the earher part of his work 
he respected the pubhc and was more diffident of himself. Success 
produced its usual effects ; his peculiar faults were more and more 
visible as his work advanced, and in liis later volumes he seems to 
take a pride, as is too commonly the case among men of genius, in 
indulging liimself m liberties which he would certainly have denied 
to others. And as the powers of the writer strengthened as he 
went on, and kept pace with his disposition to abuse them, the 
History of the Decline and Fall became, at last, a work so sin- 
gularly constituted, that the objections to it are too obvious to 
escape the most ordinary observer, while its merits are too exten- 
sive and profound to be fully ascertained by the most learned of its 
admirers. 

These faults will only be the more deeply lamented by those who 
can best appreciate such extraorduiary merits. Men of genius are 
fitted by their nature, not only to instruct the understanding, but to 
fill the imagination and interest the heart. It is mournfid to see the 
defects of their greatness ; it is painful to be checked in the generous 
career of our applause. With what surprise and disgust are we to 
see in such a writer as Gibbon the most vulgar relish for obscenity ! 
With what pain are we to find him exercising his raillery and sar- 
casm on such a subject as Christianity ! How dearly shall we pur- 
chase the pleasure and instruction to be derived from his work, if 
modesty is to be sneered away from our minds, and piety from our 
feehngs ! There seems no excuse for this celebrated writer on these 
two important points ; he must have known that some of the best in- 
terests of society are connected with the respectability of the female 
character ; and Auth regard to his chapters on the progress of Chris- 
tianity, and the various passages of attack with which his work 
abounds, it is in vain to say, that, as a lover of truth, he was called 



64 LECTURE III. 

upon to oppose those opinions which he deemed erroneous ; for he 
was concerned, as an historian, only with the effects of this religion, 
and not with its evidences, — with its influence on the affairs of the 
world, not with its truth or falsehood. 

It would be to imitate the fault to which I object, were I now to 
travel out of my appointed path, and attempt to comment upon these 
parts of his work. But as they Avho hear me are at a season of life 
when hveliness and sarcasm have but too powerful a charm, more 
particularly if employed upon subjects that are serious, it may not be 
improper to remind them how often it has been stated, and justly 
stated, that questions of this natvire are to be approached neither by 
liveliness nor by sarcasm, but by calm reasoning and regular investi- 
gation ; and that to subject them to any other criterion, to expose 
them to any other influence, is to depart from the only mode we pos- 
sess of discovering truth on any occasion, but more especially on 
those points which youth, as well as age, mil soon discover to be of 
the most immeasurable importance. 

If we pass from the matter to the manner of this celebrated work, 
how are we not to be surprised, when we find a writer, who has medi- 
tated the finest specimens of ancient and modern hterature, forgetting 
the first and most obvious requisite of the composition he is engaged 
in, — simphcity of narrative ! In the History of Mr. Gibbon, facts 
are often insinuated, rather than detailed ; the story is alluded to, 
rather than told ; a commentary on the history is given, rather than 
the history itself; many paragraphs, and some portions of the work, 
are scarcely intelhgible without that previous knowledge which it 
was the proper business of the historian himself to have furnished. 
The information which is afforded is generally conveyed by abstract 
estimates, --a mode of writing which is never comprehended without 
an effort of the mind more or less painful ; and when this exertion is 
so continually to be renewed, it soon ceases to be made. The reader 
sees, without instruction, sentence succeed to sentence, in appearance 
little connected with each other ; cloud rolls on after cloud in majesty 
and darkness ; and at last retires from the work, to seek relief in the 
chaster composition of Robertson, or the unambitious beauties of 
Hume. 

On this account, it is absolutely necessary to apprise the student of 
what it might, at first, seem somewhat strange to mention, — that he 
will not receive all the benefit which he might otherwise derive from 
the labors of this great writer, miless he reads but little of his work 
at the same time. It is not that his paragraphs, though full and 
sounding, signify nothing, but that they comprehend too much ; and 
the reader must have his faculties, at every instant, fi-esh and effec- 
tive, or he will not possess himself of the treasures, which are con- 
cealed, rather than displayed, in a style so sententious and elaborate. 
The perversity of genius is proverbial ; but surely it has been seldom 



GIBBON. 05 

more vmfortimatelj exercised than in corrupting and disfiguring so 
magnificent a work. 

For, the moment -we reverse the picture, the merits of the historian 
are as striking as his faults. If his work be not always history, it is 
often something more than history, and above it : it is philosophy, it 
is theology, it is wit and eloquence, it is criticism the most masterly 
upon every subject with Avhich literature can be connected. If the 
style be so constantly elevated as to be often obscure, to be often 
monotonous, to be sometimes even ludicrously disproportioned to the 
subject, it must at the same time be allow^ed, that, whenever an 
opportunity presents itself, it is the striking and adequate representa- 
tive of comprehensive thought and weighty remark. 

It may be necessary, no doubt, to warn the student against the 
imitation of a mode of writing so httle easy and natural. But the 
very necessity of the caution implies the attraction that is to be re- 
sisted ; and it must be confessed that the chapters of the Decline and 
Fall are replete with paragraphs of such melody and grandeur as 
would be the fittest to convey to a youth of genius the full chann of 
literary composition, and such as, when once heard, however unat- 
tainable to the immaturity of his own mind, he Avould alone consent 
to admire or sigh to emulate. 

History is always a work of diflficulty ; but the difficulties with 
which j\Ir. Gibbon had to struggle were of more than ordinary magni- 
tude. Truth was to be discovered and reason was to be exercised 
upon times where truth was little valued and reason but little con- 
cerned. The materials of history were often to be collected fi-om the 
synods of prelates, the debates of polemics, the relations of monks, 
and the panegyrics of poets. Hints were to be caught, a narrative 
was to be gathered up, from documents broken and suspicious, from 
every barbarous relic of a barbarous age ; and, on the whole, the 
historian was to be left to the most unceasing and unexampled exer- 
cise of ciiticism, comparison, and conjecture. Yet all this, and more 
than all this, has been accomplished. The public have been made 
acquainted with periods of history which were before scarcely ac- 
cessible to the most patient scholars. Order and interest and im- 
portance have been given to what appeared to defy every power of 
perspicacity and genius. Even the fleeting shadows of polemical 
divinity have been arrested, embodied, and adorned ; and the same 
pages which instruct the theologian might add a polish to the liveli- 
ness of the man of wit, and imagery to the fancy of the poet. The 
vast and obscure regions of the Middle Ages have been penetrated 
and disclosed ; and the narrative of the historian, while it descends, 
like the Nile, through lengthened tracts of present sterility and 
ancient renown, pours, hke the Nile, the exuberance of its affluence 
on every object which it can touch, and gives fertiUty to the rock 
and verdure to the desert. 

9 F* 



66 LECTURE IV. 

When such is the work, it is placed beyond the justice or the in- 
justice of criticism ; the Christian may have but too often very just 
reason to complain, the moralist to reprove, the man of taste to cen- 
sure, — even the historical inquirer may be fatigued and irritated by 
the unseasonable and obscure splendor through which he is to dis- 
cover the objects of his research. But the whole is, notwithstanding, 
such an assemblage of merits so various, so interesting, and so rare, 
that the History of the Decline and Fall must always be considered 
as one of the most extraordinary monuments that have appeared of 
the Hterary powers of a single mind, and its fame can perish only 
with the civilization of the world. . 



LECTURE IV. 



THE DARK AGES. 



I HAVE made a certain progress in the consideration of the earlier 
and more perplexing portions of modern history. I have, as I hope, 
introduced to your curiosity the general subjects that belong to it ; 
and I have mentioned to you the writers who have so successfully 
displayed the philosophy of history, while considering these particular 
times, — Hume, Robertson, and Smith, Stuart, Gibbon, and the 
Abbe de Mably. 

But while you are forming general views and studying these 
writers, you must acquire, by some means or other, a proper knowl- 
edge of those very facts and those very details of history which have 
been present to the minds of these distinguished reasoners while 
they were deducing their conclusions and forming their statements. 
In other .words, you must acquire some proper knowledge of the 
French and German histories ; and these histories are, for a long 
time, very tedious and repulsive. 

The original documents from which the facts of the early part of 
the French history are to be collected will be found in a great 
work of the Benedictines, in eleven volumes, foho, — " Recueil des 
Historiens des Gaules et de la France." This great work is seldom 
to be met with in England ; it is in Albemarle Street, at the Royal 
Institution. But there is a work of a similar nature, by Duchesne, 
which you will find in all great libraries, — in our own, — and in 
which the original historians of France are collected. Gregory of 
Tours is the author most referred to, and parts of liis work may be 



THE DARK AGES. 67 

consulted to acquire an idea of the whole : his defects and faults are 
obvious. 

There has been lately published, by Dr. Ranken, a work contain- 
ing a history of France through these earher ages. It is not executed 
with any very particular judgment or any constant accuracy ; yet, as 
the author's reading is very extensive, and as the work is never tedi- 
ous, and particularly as it contains a variety of information not to be 
acquired without intolerable labor, the student may consult it with 
material advantage and with considerable amusement. It is to this 
work, therefore, I refer those who would study these early facts of 
the French history. At the same time, I must finally refer you to 
the Abridgment of Henault, where the facts are Avell selected and 
arranged, and accompanied with valuable observations. There is a 
still better work, by Millot, on the French history, which might be 
consulted for the same purpose. And, lastly, there has been lately 
pubhshed a work by D'Anquetil, on the French history, in fourteen, 
or rather thirteen, octavo volumes. D'Anquetil is a writer of great 
reputation, and undertook the work at the recommendation of Bona- 
parte, who very sensibly desired him to draw up a history of France 
which could be read, disencumbered of those details which make 
the volumes of the French historians so repulsive and fatiguing. 

Along with the French history, the work of Pfeffel must be looked 
at for the German history. Though every possible effort is made by 
this celebrated writer to render the early parts of his work as concise 
as possible, it is still a very disagreeable task to read through the 
particular history of those times ; and readers will, in general, be 
content to catch up some of the particulars that are descriptive of the 
scene in a passing manner, and to confine their regular reading to 
the author's remarks on each particular period, which are given 
in a collected and summary way at the end of each period, and 
are drawn up with great skUl and perspicuity. I would recom- 
mend to the reader to proceed beyond the period of the Saxon 
dynasty, wliich answers to the accession of Hugh Capet in the 
French history, and to labor, in some way or other, through the 
other two dynasties, and the Interregnum, untd he reaches the acces- 
sion of Rodolph, the founder of the celebrated house of Austria ; 
afterwards he may take Coxe's History of Austria. 

In overcoming this early part of the French and German history, 
much assistance ^ill be derived, not only from Mr. Gibbon's History 
of the Decline and Fall, but also from a Sketch of Universal His- 
tory, printed in his posthumous Avorks, which will be found, in every 
word of it, deserving of attention. I must once more remind you, 
that the work of Mr. Butler on the German Empire is also indispen- 
sably necessary ; that the Abbe de Mably is invaluable. 

These will, I conceive, be sufficient ; but it is desirable that to 
these should be added the work of Koch on the Revolutions of the 



68 LECTURE IV. 

Middle Ages. The first edition, of 1790, may be easily procured, 
and might be sufiicient ; but the whole work has been new cast and 
amplified, and it is the last edition, of 1807, that should rather be 
purchased. 

But I must enter a little further into particulars ; for I must con- 
fess that this subject of French history is from the first, and always 
continues to be, one most perplexing to me ; that is, it is perplexing 
to me to know what to recommend with any chance of its being 
read. For the German history, indeed, you must look at the gen- 
eral statements of Pfefiel in some general way, and then proceed 
with Coxe's House of Austria. But with respect to the history of 
France, the regular historians, Velly, Le Pere Daniel, &c., are so 
voluminous, and it is so impossible to read them, that it is difficult to 
know what course to recommend. 

What I propose, however, to the student, is this : that he should 
read the short history of D'Anquetil, which he may readily do, — 
there is very little reading in each volume, and the first volume and 
most of the second and third he may read slightly, — or that he 
should meditate well the History of Henault, or the History of Mil- 
lot ; and that, in reading any of these histories, he should consider, 
in the first place, whether there may not be incidents mentioned 
which give him as clear an idea of the times as the most detailed 
representation : let these first be noted, and let these be all that he 
endeavours to remember. And next, let him consider whether some 
of the topics mentioned are not of such importance, that it may be 
advisable to look for them in the more detailed histories of Velly 
and Pere Daniel, or Mezeray ; or perhaps, indeed, pursue them 
through the original authors to which these writers refer. 

I will endeavour to exemplify what I propose in both these partic- 
ulars, and each in its order. 

And, first, with respect to incidents characteristic of the state of 
the French constitution and of the times, such as I think it will, on 
the whole, be sufficient to remember. 

In the reign of Hugh Capet, it is observed by Henault that he 
took an early opportunity of having his son crowned at Orleans, — 
an example which was ibllowed by his successors ; and this is an 
indication that the hereditary nature of the crown was not yet estab- 
lished. It is observed that Louis the Eighth ascended the throne 
without any such previous ceremony ; this was two centuries and a 
half afterwards, and affi)rds an opposite conclusion ; which is again 
confirmed by observing that Louis the Seventh, a century before, 
though crowned when prince, omitted to renetv the ceremony when 
hing. 

Again, a message of expostulation or command was sent from 
Hugh Capet to the Count de Perigord, which ended with asking him 
who made him a count. The reply was, " Those who made you a 



THE DARK AGES. 69 

king." A striking specimen of the independent sovereignty of the 
barons, and of tlie original elective and baronial nature of the power 
of Hugh Capet. 

His son Robert was excommunicated on account of his marriage, 
and therefore every thing that he touched was purified before it 
could be touched by others : such was the reasoning of the king's 
friends and attendants. Robert, to save his subjects from the guilt 
of perjury, made them swear upon a shrine from which he had with- 
drawn the relics : such was the reasoning of the king himself. 

In the ensuing reign of Henry the First was established " The 
Truce of the Lord," a law which prohibited private combats from 
Wednesday night to Monday morning, because the intermediate 
days had been consecrated by particular passages in the life and 
sufferings of our Saviour. That men should be resolved to destroy 
each other in private war, or that they should by considerations of 
this kind be checked and moderated, is descriptive of the age ; but 
that they should consent to be thus far bound, and no farther, — 
that they should reason and act in this mixed, inconsistent, and 
shuffling mamier between their passions and their duty, — this is de- 
scriptive, not of these men and of this age, but of every man and 
of every age. 

The next king, Philip the First, in 1102, buys his lands and does 
homage for them to the Count de Sancerre, — the king to liis sub- 
ject: a striking specimen of the feudal system. And it was two 
hundred years before so strange a submission could be altered into a 
less offensive acknowledgment ; so strongly estabhshed were the pro- 
visions of this feudal system. 

Early in the next reign, Louis le Gros was three years in master- 
ing the castle of one of his barons. A few years afterwards, when 
the same king was threatened by the emperor of Germany, he was 
able to assemble two hundred thousand men. Such was the feudal 
system ; so fitted for sudden, short, and violent efforts for the public 
defence against an enemy ; so inadequate to produce the benefits of 
any system of general and domestic law, equally diffused over the 
whole of a community. 

Near sixty years afterwards, his son, Louis le Jeune, makes a pil- 
grimage to the tomb of Becket, and this in the lifetime of Henry 
the Second. On his return, he has his son cro-\vned at Rheims, and 
the English monarch assists at the ceremony as Duke of Normandy. 
Listances, these, of the peculiar nature of the two great characteris- 
tics of the age, superstition and the feudal system. 

The next reign opens with the efforts of Philip Augustus to 
repress the outrages of the barons ; but he himself falls upon the 
Jews, and announces to his subjects, that they are to be exonerated 
from all Jewish claims, on pa}nng one fifth of their debt to the royal 
treasury : such was the general ignorance and neglect of all the 



70 LECTURE IV. 

principles of order and justice. Twenty years afterwards we see 
an ordinance in favor of the Jews : a still stronger mark of the 
wretched state of commerce ; for from these two instances it is clear, 
that, abominated as the Jews were, the French were so ignorant of 
commerce, as to be unable to do without them ; and, merciless and 
unjust as were the French, the Jews were contented to endure every 
thing from them, because they could derive so much pecuniary ad- 
vantage from them. 

Louis the Eighth, by liis will, after declaring his eldest son king, 
gives Artois to liis second son, Poitou to his third, Anjou and 
Maine to his fourth ; this was two centuries and a half after Hugh 
Capet, The power of the crown had stiU to struggle with great dis- 
advantages, if its domains could thus be dispersed by the sovereign, 
at liis death, among the youngest branches of his family. 

Louis the Ninth, the first prince of his age, made it a point to buy 
the crown of thorns, which had been placed on the Saviour, from 
the Venetians, and different relics from the crusaders. The same 
prince finds it necessary to publish an ordinance to prevent any son 
from avenging the murder of his father within forty days. Super- 
stition and violence were, therefore, still the characteristics of the 
age ; and an age of devotion, as the devotion was blind and cer- 
emonial, was still left to be an age of crimes. 

Philip le Hardi, his successor, ennobles one of his tradesmen ; the. 
commercial interest was therefore now advancing. This was three 
centuries after Hugh Capet. 

Li Phihp le Bel's reign were enacted various sumptuary laws : an 
indication that the great and afiluent were spending their revenue 
on themselves, and therefore insensibly encouraging commerce. But 
we have also various ordinances against usury: an indication that 
the profits of money were high, and therefore that commerce was 
still in its infancy- 
Louis Hutin, his successor, in 1315, passes an ordinance to secure 
the serfs from being distressed in their persons, goods, instruments 
of agriculture, &c. ; soon after, he obhges the serfs to purchase 
their liberty by selling their movables : indications, these, how de- 
graded had been their condition, but that their condition was on the 
whole improving. 

Li 1318, the Duke of Brittany obtains letters of remission from 
Philip le Long for not having attended his coronation : an indication 
that the power of the crown was now in France advanced and ac- 
knowledged ; for Brittany was at that time one of the most powerful 
and independent fiefs remaining. 

During the six years of Charles le Bel, from 1322 to 1328, the 
relics of the chapel royal still accompanied the king, whenever he 
left Paris, to celebrate the four great festivals of the year ; religion, 
therefore, still consisted not a httle in vain ceremonials. 



THE DARK AGES. 71 

Incidents of this sort mark the character of the times in which thcj 
appear. The Abridgment of the President Henault, from which they 
are taken, is too concise, and, above all, gives little information re- 
specting the constitution of France ; and the student must, on that 
account, be more attentive to every particular that is noted. Millot 
is better. 

The appendixes of Hume afford a very striking display of the 
manner in which the characteristics of a particular reign or period 
may be selected and explained by a diligent and discerning historian. 
In this manner I have endeavoured to illustrate my meaning, when 
I recommended that particular incidents in the account of Henault, 
or Millot, or D'Anquetil, should be fixed upon as characteristics of 
the times, and made subjects of reflection. 

I proceed now to give a few specimens of such subjects as are also 
mentioned by Henavilt, which may, I think, be of sufiicient impor- 
tance to deserve further consideration in other authors, more particu- 
larly in the valuable and very detailed history of Velly, and in the 
philosophic work of Mably. For instance : — 

1st. The establishments of Louis the Ninth, or St. Louis. These 
are very deserving attention ; they exhibit the efforts that were made 
by the most amiable and revered monarch of his time to improve the 
jurisprudence of his age. Montesquieu may be consulted. There is 
a full account given of them by Velly. 

The chief object of St. Louis seems to have been to prepare his 
people for the adjustment of their quarrels, not by private combat, 
but by the decisions of law, after an examination of witnesses. At 
the same time it must be observed, that most of the great objects of 
civil and penal jurisprudence appear to have occupied his attention, 
and it is not very possible now to understand all the meaning, and 
therefore all the merit, of his provisions ; but the great design of the 
whole must have been to soften and modify the jurisprudence of the 
baronial courts, and to place the whole within the reach of improve- 
ment, by opening the way to the paramount jurisdiction of the courts 
of the sovereign. 

France, in the time of St. Louis, was divided into the country 
under the king's obedience, and the country under the obedience of 
the great barons. It was not possible for St. Louis to embody his 
own opinions of equity and law, and then enforce a new system of 
jurisprudence. He attempted to reform existing systems, by intro- 
ducing one more improved within his own dependencies, and holding 
it up to the observation of the other parts of the kingdom. He seems 
everywhere to struggle with difficulties, to mochfy and to balance, to 
capitulate with the evils which he could not remove, — evils on which, 
by any other conduct, he could have made no impression. Such must 
ever be the true reformer ; ardor may animate liis mind, but patience 
must be his virtue. The true reformer is the philosopher who sup- 



72 LECTURE IV. 

poses no wonders in himself and expects them not in others, and is 
rather the sower who goes forth to sow his seed, than the lord who 
comes to gather into barns. The result was what might have been 
expected ; the labors of St. Louis were successful, and he exhibited 
the great criterion of genius, that of advancing his countrymen in 
improvement a step beyond the point at which he found them. 

Again, and as another specimen of subjects to be further consid- 
ered. The reign of Philip le Bel is remarkable for the struggle be- 
tween the Pope and the king, and still more for the first assembly of 
the States-General, summoned by this prince for his defence and jus- 
tification, but which must, however, not be confounded or thought 
the same with the national assemblies in the times of Charlemagne. 
These events are very important, and may be considered in Velly. 
The commons formed a distinct part of this assembly, and they took 
their share in animating the king to defend the rights of his king- 
dom ; but their language spoke an infant power, and breathed no 
longer the independent fierceness of the soldier who resisted Clovis. 
" Be pleased," they said, " to guard the sovereign freedom of your 
kingdom ; for in temporal matters the king can acknowledge no sov- 
ereign on earth but God alone." " We own no superior in tem- 
porals but the king," said the nobles. The clergy hesitated, but at 
last confessed their duty to their temporal sovereign. The failure of 
such a Pope as Boniface, on this occasion, shows clearly that the 
power of the see had already, in 1303, passed its meridian. 

Again, 3dly. The French Parliaments are a proper subject of 
inquiry. Philip proposed to make the Parliaments, or courts of jus- 
tice, stationary ; this afterwards took place. The account given by 
Velly should be consulted. The student is, no doubt, aware that the 
dispensers of justice should be few in number, and neither be removed 
nor advanced at the mere pleasure of the executive power, — that is, 
be exposed neither to be corrupted nor terrified. You will do well 
to observe the changes that took place with respect to this part of 
the French constitution, a part so important to the happiness of every 
community. Indeed, one of the great subjects of this early period 
of modern history is the constitution of France, or rather, the for- 
tunes of the constitution of France. These you will best understand, 
and, indeed, can understand only, by meditating the work of the 
Abbe de Mably. His work exhibits the philosophy of the French 
history. I ought to speak of it in terms of the utmost gratitude ; 
and I must repeat to you, that I do no more than mention this great 
subject of the constitution of France, and this masterly treatise on its 
changes and fortunes, that I may impress upon you more strongly, 
or rather, as far as I am able to do it, impose upon you more com- 
pletely, the necessity of reading the work for yourselves. 

I must now make a pause. I must consider myself as having 
passed through the first and most repulsive portion of modern history. 



THE DARK AGES. 73 

I have not been al)le to do more than allude to and recommend 
subjects and books that have employed the lives of men of learning 
and reflection. But the whole of the period may, I hope, be esti- 
mated in a general and even satisfactory manner, either on a more 
confined scale or a larger, by fixing the attention upon the points 
and the books I have mentioned. I say a confined scale or a larger, 
for I have exhibited both to you. 

And now, that we have to take our leave of the Dark Ages, I can- 
not but make one effort more to recommend them to your attention 
and study. 

The great conclusions to be drawn from these Dark Ages are, as I 
conceive, — First, that civil liberty cannot result, in the first in- 
stance, from the rude, natural liberty of barbarous warriors. Again, 
that religion, in like manner, cannot consist with uncivilized igno- 
rance. The power of the sword and of superstition, of the military 
chief and of the priest (of the priest in the unfavorable sense of the 
term), must at first follow, and may continue for ages. 

But, in the next place, the great lesson wliich the Dark Ages ex- 
hibit is also that which human life is unliappily at every moment and 
on every occasion exhibiting, — the abuse of power. 

The great characteristics of the Dark Ages are the feudal system 
and the Papal power. But consider each ; the incidents, as they are 
termed, of the feudal system, — that is, the practices that obtained 
under the feudal system ; and, again, the doctrines and the decrees 
of the Papal see. Outrageous as many of these may seem, they 
were still but specimens of the abuse of power. 

The Dark Ages show human nature under its most unfavorable 
aspects, but it is still human nature. We see in them the picture 
of our ancestors, but it is only a more harsh and repulsive portrait 
of oui"selves. 

Observe, for instance, the Feudal System, its origin, its results. 
Among a set of independent warriors, the distinctions of the weak 
and the strong naturally arose, the leader and the follower, the mih- 
tary chief and the dependant. Society necessarily fell into little 
knots and divisions ; in the absence of all central government, of all 
more regular paramount authority, each military chief in extensive 
conquered countries necessarily became a petty sovereign, — the 
petty sovereign a despot. When lands were once received on the 
general principle of homage, the natural course of the abuse of 
power was inevitable ; the incidents, that is, the oppressions, of the 
feudal system followed ; but for all these disgusting specimens of 
legal outrage and licensed wrong a sort of reason may always be 
found to have existed, when the incident is traced up to its first ele- 
ments and original introduction. 

Consider, in like manner, the Ecclesiastical Power. The priests 
of the Dark Ages proceeded only, as did the barons, with the same 
10 Q 



74 LECTURE IV. 

unchecked and therefore insatiable selfishness, to subjugate every 
thing to their will. The ecclesiastical tyrants, like the civil tyrants, 
only converted the existing situation of mankind and the genuine 
principles of human nature to their own gi-atification and aggran- 
dizement. That they should attempt to do so is not wonderful, nor 
is it wonderful that they succeeded. 

Our Barbarian ancestors, ignorant themselves, confided in men 
whom they considered as wise and learned, and who, comparatively, 
were wise and learned. This was natural ; it was even reasonable ; 
they had no other resource but to confide, and they had no means 
of learning how to measure their confidence. 

It should not be forgotten that the distingiiishing doctrines of the 
Roman Catholic communion were all addressed to the most estab- 
lished feelings of the human heart, — absolution, confession, prayers 
for the dead, penance, purgatory ; their rites and ceremonies not 
less so ; not to mention that their tenets were and are still fortified 
by texts more numerous, and even more weighty (I do not say con- 
clusive), than we of the Protestant communion are now in the habit 
of condescending to consider or even to know. The great doctrine 
of all, the paramount authority of the Pope, as the genuine successor 
of St. Peter, was always supported, when necessary, by the words 
of our Saviour to that apostle ; and even his infallibihty was suffi- 
ciently proved to our rude ancestors by the obvious argument, that 
Christ would not leave his Church without a guide, to whom re- 
course might be had under all those difficulties which must necessa- 
rily arise among the contradictory views of contending sects ; in a 
word, those doctrines of the Roman Catholic communion, which, at a 
very late period, could subdue for a time even the learning and 
understanding of a Chillingworth, may readily be supposed to have 
obtained an easy victory over the unlettered soldiers of the Dark 
Ages, 

Whatever may be said of the thoughtlessness of mankind amid 
the occupations of civilized life, their apprehensions for the future 
are unceasing, the moment that the great truth of their immortality 
is properly announced to them in their ruder state. These appre- 
hensions, in themselves so just and natural in every period of soci- 
ety, when united to ignorance so great as that which existed in 
Europe at this particular period, produced effects which at first sight 
may appear, but cannot on rejlection appear, astonishing. The most 
fierce and savage soldier became docile and submissive ; the most 
powerful monarch trembled in secret on his throne, and found his 
knights and his vassals a pageant and a show. 

But the suigle terror of excommunication, and all the preparatory 
processes of spiritual punishment, were perfectly adequate to pro- 
duce these intellectual and political wonders. No one in our own 
happier times can form an idea of what was then a sentence of ex- 



THE DARK AGES. 75 

communication. It was to live alone in the midst of society, to be 
no longer human, to be without the character of man here, and to be 
without hope hereafter. The clergy of the Dark Ages (to adopt, 
in part, the striking illustration of Hume, suggested, indeed, by a 
passage in Dryden's " Sebastian"), — the clergy of the Dark Ages 
had obtamed Avhat alone Archimedes wanted ; they had got another 
world on which to rest their engines, and they moved this world at 
their pleasure. 

The Inquisition itself had its origin in the most acknowledged feel- 
ings of our nature. Its advocates and its ministers could always 
appeal, in its support, to the most regular conclusions of the human 
mind. The reasoning was then, as it would be now to the generality 
of mankind, perfectly intelligible and convincing. Truth, it was said, 
could be only on one side ; by error we may destroy our own souls 
and those of others. Error must therefore be prevented, and if not 
by gentle means, on account of the greatness of the object, by other 
means, by any means, by force. This is the creed of intolerance to 
this hour. The tribunal that appeared with all its tremendous appor 
ratus of familiars, inquisitors, and executioners, was but a conse- 
quence which, in an unenlightened period, followed of course. 

The great and only difficult victory of the Papal see was over the 
clergy themselves, — the law of celibacy. When this triumph, that 
had been long in preparation, was once obtained by the renowned 
Gregory the Seventh, towards the close of the eleventh century, the 
ecclesiastics then became a sort of regular army, wth a dictator at 
their head, to which nothing could be successfully opposed. 

But even this, the most extraordinary phenomenon of the whole, 
may still be traced up, as well as the existence of the various mo- 
nastic orders, with all their extravagant and, at first sight, unnatural 
observances, to principles that are, notwithstanding, the genuine 
principles of the human heart, and inseparable from our nature. 
The esprit du corps, — the merit of the severer virtues, of self-denial, 
of self-abasement, — these, united with the religious principle, gave 
occasion to the monastic character and all its observances, and they 
form at once a solution of all these outrageous deviations from the 
more calm and ordinary suggestions of the common sense and com- 
mon feelings of mankind. 

Observances of this kind have, in fact, existed among the nations 
of every clime and age ; they exist in India at tliis moment. But 
consider the principles we have mentioned. This esp)rit du corjjs is 
founded on the sympathies, on some of the most effective sympar 
thies, of the human mind ; and the severer wtues of self-control, of 
self denial, of self-abasement, of chastity, and again the virtues of 
humility and of piety, are all virtues in themselves so awful and 
/espcctable, that they have always, even in their excesses, received 
the admiration of mankind, and they are the highest and the best 



76 LECTURE IV. 

praise of man, -when well directed and attempered ; — that they should 
not be so in times of ignorance can be matter of no surprise ; these 
are subjects which are often misunderstood, even among ourselves. 

Pursue the same train of reasoning to the less fatal, less degrad- 
ing, extravagances of this dark period, — the institution of Chivalry, 
for instance, — the expeditions to the Holy Land. 

Chivalry, if considered in its original elements, is only a very 
striking testimony to those more generous principles of the human 
heart which, it should seem, can never be separated from our nature, 
under any, the most disorderly, state of society. The same testi- 
mony seems to have been offered in times the most remote. The 
knights of the Middle Ages were not a little the counterparts, how- 
ever improved, of the fabled gods and heroes of antiquity, of Her- 
cules and Theseus ; and have been celebrated in the same romantic 
manner. They were the redressers of oppression ; the moral bene- 
factors of the community in which they lived ; the mirrors of the 
noblest qualities of the human charac^^or ; the exhibitors of those 
two great virtues of tenderness and courage, which were then so 
peculiarly necessary to society. The foundations of the chivalrous 
character were laid in human nature, in the consciousness that be- 
longs to good actions, and in that sensibility to the applause of oth- 
ers, from which those who can really perform good actions neither 
can nor need be exempt. 

Original principles like these could easily be associated in a re- 
ligious age with the religious principle, more especially with Chris- 
tianity, the religion of benevolence, — the religion which, of all 
others, teaches us to think most of those around us, and least of 
ourselves. 

The only part of the chivalrous character which it is somewhat 
difficult to account for is that delicate devotion to the fair sex, by 
which it was so strongly and often so whimsically distinguished. 

This devotion must be traced up to the woods of Germany ; 
where, however it may be explained, it appears from Tacitus that 
the other sex had even more than their natural share of importance 
and respect. This natural importance and respect could not but be 
materially strengthened and improved subsequently by the influence 
of the Christian rehgion, which still existed amidst the confusions of 
Europe, and survived them. This religion could not but have made 
the weaker sex more worthy of the estimation of the stronger, and 
the stronger, in its turn, more fitted to comprehend and relish the 
more gentle virtues of the weaker. 

The subsequent state of society, where the great families lived 
often in a state of separation and hostility, must have interposed 
those difficulties to the gratification of the sexual passion Avhicli 
have such a remarkable tendency to soften and refine it. Even in 
civilized life we see this passion so affected by difficulties, as some- 



THE DARK AGES. 77 

times to be sublimed into extravagances as wild as those of the 
Middle Ages, as preposterous as were ever exhibited by those who 
maintained, by arms the beauty of their mistresses against all comers. 

Humanity and courage are the virtues which the softer sex must 
from their very nature be always most disposed to patronize. The 
knight and his lady were thus formed in their characters for each 
other. Jousts and tournaments still further contributed to animate 
all the natural sentiments with which both were ins{)ired ; and these 
trials of skill and spectacles of magnificence were the necessary exhi- 
bitions of the merits of both, — of beauty on the one side, and mili- 
tary prowess on the other ; and were the obvious resources of those 
who must otherwise have been without occupation and amusement, 
and whose minds could not at that period be diversified by all the in- 
tellectual pursuits of modern and more civilized life. 

On the whole, there was in chivalry much which the natural ardor 
and enthusiasm of the human character might convert into the ex- 
travagant, and sometimes into the ridiculous, and in this state it 
might be seized upon by a man of genius, like Cervantes, and, when 
arrayed in the colors of his own pleasantry and fancy, be transmitted 
to the amusement of posterity ; but the virtues of the knight, of the 
hero of chivalry, were real and substantial virtues. Courtesy to the 
low, respect to the high, tenderness to the softer sex and loyalty to 
the prince, courage and piety, gentleness and modesty, veracity and 
frankness, — these, after all, are the virtues of the human character ; 
and whatever appearances they might assume under the particular 
circumstances of these ages, they are still the proper objects of the 
love and respect of mankind under every circumstance and in every 
age. 

The knights, it must be confessed, received an education that was 
too military to be favorable to knowledge ; they were not the scholars 
or the men of science of their day, but they contributed, notwith- 
standing, to elevate and to humanize the times in which they lived, 
and they transmitted, and they indeed thoroughly engrafted upon the 
European character, the generous and manly virtues. 

Lastly, to take the other specimen, which we have mentioned, of 
these Middle Ages, — the Crusades. These are, according to Mr. 
Hume, the most durable monuments of human folly. It may be so ; 
but whatever may have been the less worthy motives that contributed 
to carry such myriads to the Holy Land, no warriors would have 
reached it, if a piety, however unenlightened, if a military spirit, 
however rude, that is, if devotion and courage, had not been the 
great actuating principles of the age. But courage and devotion are 
still virtues, however unfortunately exercised ; the difference be- 
tween these crusaders and ourselves is still only that of a more intel- 
ligent faith in us, and better regulated feehngs. Piety and magna- 
nimity are still our virtues, as they were theirs. 

G* 



78 LECTURE IV. 

The crusaders, indeed, were inflamed by the images of the Holy 
Land ; for they saw, and they were overpowered with indignation 
when they saw, the sacred earth, Mdiich had been blessed by the 
footsteps of our Saviour, profaned by the tread of Barbarians, who 
rejected his faith, and outraged his pious and unoffending followers : 
but in this the crusaders submitted only to the associations of their 
nature. The same power of association is still the great salutary 
law by which we, too, are animated or subdued, by which we, too, 
are hurried into action or moulded mto habit ; and it is as impossible 
for us now, as it was to the crusaders of the Middle Ages, to behold 
without affection and reverence whatever has been once connected 
with objects that are dear and venerable in our eyes. 

It is thus that things, in themselves the most inanimate, are every 
day seen to assume almost the nature of life and existence. Is there 
at Runnymede, for instance, to be found nothing more than the 
beauty of the scene ? Do we walk without emotion amidst the ruins 
of ancient Rome ? Is Palestine a land, and Jerusalem a city, like a 
common land and a common city ? Far different is the answer 
which Nature has unalterably given to appeals of this kind in every 
climate and in every heart. And if, indeed, the sepulchre in 
which our Saviour was inurned, if, indeed, the cross on wliich he 
expired, could be presented to our eyes, — if we could indeed be- 
lieve that such were in truth the objects actually exhibited to our 
view, — assuredly, we should sink in reverence, as did our fore- 
fathers, before such affecting images of the past ; assuredly, Avith 
the Sufferer liimself we should identify these Adsible instruments of his 
sufferings ; and the sacrifice of our hearts would be, not the idolatry 
of blindness, but the natural effusion of irresistible devotion and awe. 

It is not the sentiments by wliich these heroes were impelled that 
we can bear to censure ; it is the excess to which they were carried ; 
it is the direction which they took ; it is piety preposterously exer- 
cised ; it is courage unlawfully employed ; the extravagances to wliich 
virtue and religion may be made subservient, not virtue and religion. 

So natural, indeed, are such sacred principles, so attractive, so re- 
spectable even in their excesses, that we willingly allow to our imagi- 
nation the facility which it loves, of moulding into visions of sublimity 
and beauty the forms and the scenes which time has now removed 
within its softened twilight, and in some respects secured from the 
intrusions of our colder reason. \Ylio is there that can entirely 
escape from the delusion and the charm of Pilgrims gray and Red- 
cross Knights, the fights of Ascalon and the siege of Acre, the 
prowess and the renoAvn of our lion-hearted Richard ? It is by an 
effort, an unwilling effort, that we turn to think of the bloodshed and 
desolation, the disease and famine, the pain and death, by which 
these unhappy enterprises were accompanied. 

Little need be said of the custom of Duellmg by which these ages 



THE DARK AGES. 79 

were so distinguished. The custom is founded too evidently on some 
of the most powerful principles of our nature, particularly that of re- 
sentment, — given us for the wisest purposes, and necessary to our 
well-being, but, of all others, the principle that has been most abused 
by the folly of mankind. The practice has even descended to our 
own times, though we have no longer the reasons or the excuse which 
our forefathers had for such nefarious or ridiculous or misguided ex- 
cesses of just and honorable sentiment. In the absence of all gen- 
eral law, men were in former times naturally a law unto themselves. 
These appeals, too, were considered at that period as appeals to 
Heaven. There was here something of necessity, something of reason- 
ableness. With respect to ourselves, on the contrary, experience 
has taught us no longer to expect these extraordinary interpositions 
to defend the right ; a more enlarged philosophy has served to show 
us the impropriety of supposing that the general laws of the Creator 
should be continually suspended for the adjustment of our quarrels, 
or that the rewards and punishments which are to await innocence 
and guilt hereafter should be regularly expected and realized in our 
present state. But customs remain, when the reasons of them have 
ceased. In the midst of our lawyers, our sages, and our divines, we 
violate every precept of law, morality, and rehgion ; in the midst 
of civilization, improvement, and social happiness, we suffer our 
comforts and our peace, here and hereafter, to hang upon the 
chance of an angry look or word ; and we retain the preposterous 
folly, while we have lost the ignorance, — the bloody ferocity, but 
no longer the humble piety, of our ancestors. 

It is thus that the history of the Dark and Middle Ages, like 
every other part of history, is still but a representation of human 
nature, and, as such, deserving of our curiosity and examination. 

The poet may, no doubt, find the richest materials amid transac- 
tions where the passions were so violently excited, and in a period 
when human manners were cast into forms so striking and so different 
from our own ; and the antiquarian, the constitutional lawyer, and 
the philosopher must find, amid the opinions and practices of these 
ilhtcrate Barbarians, the origin and foundation of the laws, the senti- 
ments, and the customs that distinguish Europe from the other 
quarters of the world, and the different kingdoms of Europe from 
each other. But to the morahst and the statesman the great reflec- 
tion is evei'ywhere the same : the deplorable nature of ignorance ; 
the value of every thing which can enlighten mankind ; the merit of 
every man who can contribute to open the \'iews or strengthen the 
understanding of his fellow-creatures. It is but too e\'ident, from 
the history of these periods of darkness, that we have only to sup- 
pose a state of society where the general ignorance shall be suf- 
ficiently complete, and impossibilities themselves seem realized ; men 
may find degradation in the most ennobling sentiments of their 
nature, and destruction and crimes in their best virtues. 



80 LECTURE V. 



LECTURE y. 



ENGLAND. 

I HAVE hitherto said nothing of England. Yet has England a 
dearer claim on our curiosity and attention, and its history, and more 
particularly its constitutional history, must be considered with more 
diligence and patience, than can possibly be directed to those of any 
other country. 

The first authentic notice which we have of the inhabitants of this 
island is honorable to their memory : they were attacked by the first 
man of the first nation then in the world ; they resisted, and were not 
subdued. The account is given by Caesar himself ; and what Caesar 
delivers to posterity, however short, cannot but be deserving of our 
observation. 

Further information with respect to the Britons may be afterwards 
collected from Suetonius ; and the gradual successes of the Koman 
commanders will be found in Tacitus. In his Life of Agricola the 
subject is closed ; all further contest is at an end. But the speech 
which is there attributed to Galgacus, when once read, can never be 
forgotten : the great historian has here displayed the rare merit of a 
mind elevated in the cause of justice above every domestic partiality 
and national prejudice. When he exhibits the cause which called 
the Caledonians to the field, he is no longer the son-in-law of the 
Roman general, nor the countryman of the Roman people ; he is the 
assertor of all the generous principles of our nature ; he is the pro- 
tector of humanity ; and he discharges with fidehty and spirit the 
noble office, the great duty, of the historian, by exhibiting to our 
sympathy the wrongs of unoffending freedom. The Romans were, 
indeed, successful, and the independence of Britain was no more. 
But the sentiments which must have animated these last defenders 
of their country still breathe in the immortal pages of this celebrated 
writer ; and the virtues of the Caledonians are now for ever united 
to the taste and feehngs of mankind. 

Another melancholy scene succeeds. The Romans retire from the 
island, and the Britons, deprived of their protection, are insulted and 
overpowered by every invader. The Romans had long inured them 
to a sense of inferiority. The country had been partly civilized and 
improved, but the mitid of the country had been destroyed. The 
Britons had lost the rude virtues of barbarians, but had not acquired 
that sense of honor and consciousness of political happiness which do 
more than supply their place in the character of civilized man. They 
had not felt the influence of a government winch themselves could 



ENGLAND. 81 

share. They were unable to make head agamst their enemies ; and 
they exhibited to the world that lesson, which has been so often re- 
peated, that a country can never be defended by a population that 
has been, on whatever account, degraded ; that they who are to resist 
an invader must first be moulded, by equal laws and the benefits of a 
free government, into a due sense of national pride and individual 
importance ; and that men cannot be formed into heroes on the prin- 
ciples of suspicion and injustice. 

It is true, that the Britons made a better resistance to their in- 
vaders than could have been expected. There may be much exag- 
geration and vain lamentation, as Mr. Turner supposes, in the rep- 
resentations of Gildas, on which Bede, and after him our historian 
Hume, relied ; but the independence of the island must at last have 
been lost, from the destructive effect of such general principles as I 
have stated. 

The next era in our history exhibits the total subjugation of Britain 
by the Angles, Jutes, and Saxons. These were northern nations ; 
and we are thus brought, with respect to England, exactly to the 
same point from which we set out in examining the history of Eu- 
rope, — the conquest of the northern nations. 

Again, we must observe the particular circumstances of the Norman 
Conquest which followed. This conquest gave occasion to the estab- 
lishment of the feudal system in all its rigors. The Pope had also 
extended his empire to this remote island. So that in England, as in 
the rest of Europe, we have the feudal system and the Papal power ; 
and these were, in the instance of our own country, as m the rest of 
Europe, (Avithout stopping to notice some fortunate peculiarities in 
our case, or some advantages concomitant with these catIs,) the great 
impediments to the improvement of human happiness. 

The subject of English history now lies before us, from the expul- 
sion of the Romans to the time of Henry the Eighth. I cannot occu- 
py you in Hstening here to such information as I might collect for 
you from books. You must read the books. I will observe upon 
them, and upon the subject before us ; but I can do no more. The 
whole subject may be evidently distinguished into two great di- 
visions : — the fate and fortunes of the different monarchs, barons, 
and remarkable men that appear in our annals ; and the fate and for- 
tunes of the constitution of England. The latter is the great subject 
for you to study. The first, indeed, you ought to know and may 
readily know, but the second not so readily ;. the former is of impor- 
tance chiefly as connected with the latter. In a word, there are before 
you the facts of the history, and the philosophy of the history. You 
will soon learn the one, but you must endeavour to understand the 
other. 

Having thus given you my general notion of what you are to at- 
tempt to do, I will describe to you the best and shortest means you 
11 



82 LECTURE V. 

can use for the purpose. You must read, then, and compare Hume 
and Rapin, and study Millar on the English Constitution. Bear 
away, then, this general impression from this lecture, — that it is the 
constitutional history of your country which is the great subject be- 
fore you, and that Hume, Rapin, and Millar are to be your authors ; 
that the subject cannot be contracted for you into any shorter com- 
pass than tliis. But to these, which I originally mentioned, I must 
now add the invaluable History of Mr. Hallam, and that no one who 
has been admitted to the benefits of a regular education can be par- 
doned, if he do not exert himself at least to this extent. But when 
England is the subject, most of you may be disposed to take any 
pains that can be thought necessary, to inform yourselves of its con- 
stitutional history ; and it is to those, therefore, that I shall now, for 
some time, address myself, — to those who are ready to study the 
constitutional history of their country more thoroughly. 

In the first place, then, Priestley's Lectures and Nicholson's His- 
torical Library will give you an account of all books and sources of 
information belonging to English history. 

Of the Saxon law what now can be known has been collected by 
different antiquarians, and edited more particularly by Wilkins. You 
may also estimate this part of the subject from the first appendix of 
Hume. This appendix will be sufficient for the general reader. 

Mr. Turner has pubfished some volumes containing many particu- 
lars which the student will not readily find elsewhere, and he will, 
from the text and from the notes, sufficiently comprehend what is the 
knowledge which the study of the Saxon language and Saxon antiqui- 
ties would furnish him mth. 

Mr. Turner is often capable of affording liis reader valuable topics 
of reflection ; but, though apparently a most patient antiquarian, his 
imagination is so active, that his style is unexpectedly loaded with 
metaphors, to a degree that is not only inconsistent "with historic com- 
position, but with all composition. Very extensive reading is dis- 
played ; and, on the whole, the work may be consulted with advan- 
tage. There is nothing said of the laws of Edward the Confessor, a 
strange omission ; nor of the rise of the English House of Commons, 
though Mr. Tui'ner evidently conceives that the commons formed no 
part of the Witenagemote. 

Mr. Turner has, since I wrote this paragraph, published three 
quarto volumes on the English history, from William the First to 
Henry the Eighth. He is an antiquarian, as I have mentioned, and 
whatever a man who looks into original records publishes must be 
of more or less importance. Mr. Turner often gives his reader the 
impression of an amiable man, rather than one of a very superior 
understanding ; yet many curious particulars may be collected and 
much instruction may be derived from his learned and often amusing 
work. 



ENGLAND. 83 

This lecture was cTraTvn up many years ago, in the years 1807 and 
1808. I have now, therefore, to mention to you also the eighth 
chapter of Mr. Hallam's work on the Middle Ages. This chapter 
refers entii'ely to the English constitution, into the history of which 
it enters ^\ith great learning and ability. You must come to no de- 
cision on any point connected "with this subject, without first turning 
to this chapter of Mr. Hallam. He thinks for liimself ; and he is a 
critic and examiner of the labors of those Avho have gone before. 
Since this lecture was written, his Constitutional History has also 
appeared ; a work, as I have already said, quite invaluable. 

Dr. Lingard has lately published a History of England ; and wc 
have now, therefore, the views and reasonings of those who are mem- 
bers of the Roman Catholic communion, presented to us by a writer 
of great controversial ability. Dr. Lingard also consults records, and 
judges for liimself, and his book must therefore be always referred to 
on every occasion of importance. He tells the story of England in 
too cold a manner, and it is truly the Roman Catholic history of 
England ; but his work is interesting, because the reader knows that 
the writer is not only an able writer, but a man of research and of 
antiquarian learning, and it therefore never can be conjectured be- 
forehand what may be the information which he "^ill produce or the 
sentiments that he will adopt. He sometimes differs with his prede- 
cessors, even on general subjects, and not always with good reason. 

I must now, however, mention to you the three octavo volumes on 
English history that were draAMi up by Sir James Mackintosh, for 
Dr. Lardner, There is little pretension in the appearance of these 
volumes. Do not be deceived by this circumstance ; they are full 
of weighty matter, and are everywhere marked by paragraphs of 
comprehensive thought and sound philosophy, political and moral ; 
they are well worthy their distinguished author. The sentences are 
now and then overcharged mth reflection, so as to become obscure, 
particularly in the first volume. But do not be deterred by a fault 
that too naturally resulted from the richly stored and highly meta- 
physical mind of this valuable writer. 

You may easily consult the monkish writers ; you will find them 
edited in a fonn by no means repulsive : " Rerum Anglicarum Sci-ip- 
tores Decern," &c. You will not probably turn to read works of this 
kind in any very regular manner ; but I would advise you to consult 
them at particular periods of our history, periods when their repre- 
sentations are likely to be instructive, — when popular commotions, 
for instance, occur, — changes of the government, — any transaction 
that may be connected with general principles. You may remember 
with what effect an allusion is made to the old historians, Knighton 
and Walsmgham, by Mr. Burke, when he meant to show that all the 
modern principles of the revolutionary school of France were but of 
the same nature with the vulgar jargon of John Ball in the reign of 



84 LECTURE V. 

Richard the Second. I allude to his note in the Appeal from the 
New to the Old Whigs. 

A good notion of the earlj constitutional history of England may 
be collected from Cotton's Abridgment of the Records, which ought 
by all means to be consulted ; it has been edited by Prynne, whose 
preface should be perused. The reader is furnished with an index at 
the end, which will point out to him a variety of topics well fitted to 
excite his curiosity ; and he may thus acquire, by pursuing the refer- 
ences, most of the benefit wliich the book can render him, in a very 
easy and expeditious manner. It is not, however, always a sufficient 
representation of the records, which it, indeed, only professes to 
abridge. 

It is to be observed, that records are consulted often to determine 
points of difficulty ; abridgments cannot then be satisfactory. Cotton 
is censured as inadequate, sometimes as inaccurate ; but the work is 
an abridgment. Omission is not necessarily inaccuracy, though it 
has always a tendency to be so, and may sometimes operate as if it 
were. Cotton is, of course, no authority in Westminster Hall or 
Parliament. 

Brady's History, Tyrrell's, and Carte's may be consulted, and the 
Parliamentary History ; but as the latter work, and the proper con- 
tinuations of it, are not always, at least not cheaply, to be procured, 
you may refer to a very adequate selection from them, that has been 
published by Cobbett, or rather by Hansard, and that forms the vol- 
umes of his Parliamentary History ; the preface to each of which 
volumes will always afibrd the reader all the necessary information 
respecting such original works as can now be resorted to. 

It is totally impossible to convey the impression which is given by 
these original documents in any words but their own. Nothing can 
be more curious and striking than their language to our modern ears, 
particularly where the Commons are mentioned. When we consider 
what, very happily for the community, that assembly now is, it is 
pei'fectly amusmg to observe the submissive approaches which they 
long made, not only to the king, but to the lords and prelates, — 
their alarm, their total despondency, when they see any tax impend- 
ing over them. 

It is in these original documents, that their early insignificance, and 
the slow, but accelerated, growth of their power, can best be seen ; 
and how idle is the declamation which would refer us to these times, 
as the best times of our Parhaments. Most of the valuable privileges 
which the House of Commons enjoys, most of the important offices 
which that house now discharges for the community, may be there 
traced up to all their rude beginnings ; visible sometimes in the shape 
of pretensions and assumptions, — sometimes of claims and rights, — 
and all or any of them, with the exception of the right to give away 
their own and the pubhc money, waived, or asserted, or modified, 



ENGLAND. 85 

according to the circumstances of their situation. So much has hb- 
erty owed to perseverance, and to the vigilant improvement of oppor- 
timity ; not to any original contract or adjustment between the ele- 
mentary powers of the constitution, the monarch, the aristocracy, and 
the commonalty. 

Much of this sort of information, and of every other historical in- 
formation, may be found in the History of Dr. Henry ; but the same 
facts, Avhen collected and printed ui a modern dress, properly ar- 
ranged, and to be read without difficulty, as they are in the work of 
Dr. Henry, no longer excite the same reflection, nor obtain the same 
possession of the memory, which they do, when seen in something 
like their native garb, in their proper place, and in all the simplicity, 
singularity, and quaintness which belong to them. 

I do not say that there will be no labor in referring to original 
authorities, but I say that the labor will be rewarded ; and that, un- 
less such diligence be exercised, no conclusion can safely be drawn, 
in any particular case, from the supposed facts of our constitutional 
history. And this is the more necessary, because, from the very 
nature of a mixed government and the very nature of the human 
mind, historians and philosophers are affected by different feehngs, 
and give different representations of the same periods ; and every 
student must refer to authorities and judge for himself. 

Turn, for instance, to the History of Hume. We are scarcely 
entered upon the work and referred to the notes, before we see the 
sjonptoms of some contrariety of opinion between the historian and 
other writers, with respect to the original nature of our constitution. 
If we have recourse to the authors whom he quotes or alludes to, the 
shades of controversy soon thicken around us, and we perceive that 
the same dispute exists among our own writers that will be found 
among the historians and antiquarians of the French nation, — be- 
tween those who insist upon the popular, and those who contend for 
the aristocratic and monarcliical, nature of the original constitutions 
and governments of Europe. 

Controversies of this kind have arisen, not only from the curious 
and disputable nature of these topics, but from a difference of senti- 
ment which has always existed among the writers and reasoners that 
have hved under the mixed governments of Europe. Secretly or 
avowedly, they have always fallen into two divisions, — those who 
think the interests of the commvmity are best served by favoring the 
monarcliical part of a constitution, and those who think the same end 
is best attained by hiclinmg to its popular privileges. The result has 
been, that writers of the first description have been eager to show 
that the prerogatives of the monarch were from the earliest times 
predominant ; and that those of the last description have been equally 
earnest to prove that all power, not only in theory, but in fact, was 
first derived from the people. 

H 



86 LECTURE V. 

Such discussions may be thought by many Uttle more than the 
natural, though unimportant, occupation of speculative writers and 
antiquarians ; for the real question, it will be said, must always be, 
by what form of government the happiness of the community is best 
secured, — not what was in fact the form that happened to exist 
among our ancestors a thousand years ago ; their mistakes or mis- 
fortunes can be no rule or obligation to us ; we may emulate or 
avoid their example, but cannot be bound by their authority. 

All this must be admitted, yet it must be remembered that the 
affairs of men are not disposed of by the rules of logic or the ab- 
stract truths of reasoning ; these may remain the same, and may 
always exhibit to the monarch and to the people, to the courtier and 
the patriot, those principles and maxims which are best fitted to 
promote the happiness of the community. Neither the one nor the 
other is, however, likely to see such truths very clearly, or to ex- 
amine them very accurately. It is by a certain loose and coarse 
mixtiire of right and WTong in the reasoning, and of selfishness and 
generosity in the intention, that the practical politics of mankind 
are carried on, according to the varying circumstances of the case ; 
not only, therefore, are the reasonings of philosophy produced, but 
arguments are urged, drawn from precedent and ancient usage, 
which thus appear to moderate, as it were, between the contending 
parties, and to be unaffected by the heats and prejudices of the mo- 
ment. It seems, for example, more reasonable to insist upon privi- 
leges which have been before enjoyed, more reasonable to maintain 
prerogatives which were originally exercised. Topics of this nature, 
which can in no respect be slighted by any sound philosopher, — 
much the contrary, — are perfectly adapted to the loose, sweeping, 
and often irrational decisions of the generality of mankind ; and 
therefore the discussions of antiquarians and philosophic historians, 
with respect to the original state of prerogative and pri\ilege, can 
never be without their interest and importance. In the practical 
politics of mankind, usage, prescription, custom, are every thing, or 
nearly so ; but, in this country, such discussions are fitted to excite 
a more than ordinary degree of interest. The language of the 
statesmen and patriots to whom we are so much indebted for our 
constitution has always been, that they claimed their undoubted 
rights and privileges, their ancient franchises, the laws and liberties 
of the land, and their immemorial customs. One monarch has been 
obliged to capitulate with his subjects, and acknowledge their immu- 
nities and franchises formally by charter ; one has perished on a 
scaffold ; another been exiled from the throne. Revolutions and a 
civil war have marked the influence of opposite opinions with respect 
to the popular nature of our constitution. These dreadful and peril- 
ous scenes could not fail to transmit this original division of senti- 
ment to us, their posterity. The distinction between those who in- 



ENGLAND. 8T 

cline to tlie popular part of the constitution and those who incline to 
the monarchical exists to this hour, and can cease only with the con- 
stitution itself. 

The great leading idea which should be formed of our constitu- 
tional history is, that there has always been a constant struggle be- 
tween prerogative and privilege. 

Open, for instance, a volume of Hume, in any reign after the 
House of Commons had obtained an existence, — any extract may 
serve as a specimen of the whole, — it will instantly be seen that 
the points at issue between the crown and the subject were alivaya 
nearly the same (precisely the same in principle), from the earliest 
struggles of the barons, down to the Revolution in 1688. 

Take, for example, a paragraph in his reign of Edward the Third, 
page 490, 8vo : — "They mistake, indeed, very much," says he, 
" the genius of this reign [of Edward the Third], who imagine that 
it was not extremely arbitrary. All the high prerogatives of the 
crown were to the full exerted in it ; but, what gave some consoler 
tion and promised in time some relief to the people, they were 
always complained of by the Commons : such as the dispensing 
poAver, the extension of the forests, erecting monopolies, exacting 
loans, stopping justice by particular warrants, the renewal of the 
commission of trailbaston, pressing men and ships into the pubhc 
service, levying arbitrary and exorbitant fines, extending the author- 
ity of the Privy Council or Star-Charaber to the decision of private 
causes, enlarging the power of the mareschal's and other arbitrary 
courts, imprisoning members for freedom of speech in Parliament, 
obliging people, without any rule, to send recruits of men-at-arms, 
archers, and hobblers, to the army." 

Now, if the references of Mr. Hume are consulted, it will be 
found, as he asserts, that traces of such arbitrary exercises of power 
appear on our records. But, says Mr. Hume, " they Avere always 
complained of by the Commons." On consulting the references, 
this, too, will be found to be the case. And here, then, we have 
before us a picture of the whole subject, — a continued struggle be- 
tween prerogative and privilege, and of the same nature in the 
reign of Edward the Third as afterwards in the reign of Charles 
the First and even of James the Second. 

Grievances like these continually occurred, from the irregular 
nature of government and society in such barbarous times ; but the 
natural feelings of mankind, operating upon the example transmitted 
by more ancient times, continually revived the spirit of resistance. 
This virtuous spirit found in the House of Commons a regular and 
legal organ through which the rights of the community could be 
asserted ; and this is the struggle and this the merit of our ances- 
tors, — this the inherited duty, if necessary, of ourselves. 

Now, such being the real picture of our constitutional history, 



»» LECTURE V. 

the student is, in the next place, to be reminded of what Ave have 
already stated to him, and must in the course of these lectures for 
ever repeat, — the natural divisions, not only of mankind, but of 
philosophers, on political subjects, and the manner in which they 
separate into two classes : those, for instance, who are anxious, first 
and principally, for the prerogative of the crown ; and those, on the 
other hand, who are zealous, first and principally, for the privileges 
of the people. 

It may be very true, that, could the selfishness and the irritability 
of men allow them to weigh and consider the reasonings of each 
other, the real interests of both crown and people would be found to 
consist in their mutual support, and are always in truth the same ; 
but the rude warfare of human passions admits not of such salutary 
adjustments ; and as mutual ofiences are in practice constantly given 
and received, men who naturally kindle at the sight of what they 
conceive to be insolence and usurpation on the one side, or on the 
other to be cruelty and wrong, are not only inflamed, when they live 
at the time, and are witnesses of the scene, but they are unable to 
give an accurate representation even of the transactions of the past ; 
they cannot consider them with pi-oper calmness, even when they 
observe them, in a subsequent period, at a secure distance of time 
and place. So true is this, that not one thoroughly impartial his- 
torian of our annals can be mentioned ; and it is necessary to warn 
my hearers that they are to adopt no train of reasoning, nor even 
the narrative of any important proceeding, without a due examinar 
tion of different writers, and a careful consideration of their particu- 
lar prejudices. 

Take, as specimens, the reigns of Edward the Second and Rich- 
ard the Second. Let them be considered, first in Hume, and after- 
wards in Rapin ; the reader will be impressed with the difference 
between the representations of the one historian and the other. Let 
him then turn to the account given of these reigns by Millar ; the 
difference will be still more striking. The reign of Richard the 
Second, for instance, is represented by Millar as perfectly analogous 
to that of James the Second ; a king neglecting the interests and 
violating the rights of his subjects, and justly deposed. In Hume, 
on the contrary, we see only the picture of a prince unfitted to con- 
tend with a turbulent people and a factious aristocracy, and perish- 
ing by a cruel death, rather from weakness of understanding than 
from any malignity of disposition. 

The discordant observations of these two distinguished philoso- 
phers, when viewing the same actors and events at the distance of 
four centuries, sufficiently exemplify that division of sentiment which 
has been described as existing more or less among all political rea- 
soners on similar occasions. Throughout all our histoi^y it may be 
observed, that all violence and resistance are imputed by Hume to 



ENGLAND. 89 

faction and barbarism, by Millar and most other writers to a laud- 
able spirit of freedom and independence. 

These are the observations that I have to address to those students 
who are disposed to search dihgently into the records of our history. 
But I must now turn agahi to the general reader, Avho may not have 
the same ardor of inquiry or patience of study. 

Rapin and Hume are our two great historians. Eut it is Hume 
who is read by every one. Hume is the historian whose views and 
opinions insensibly become our own. He is respected and admired by 
the most enhghtened reader ; he is the guide and philosopher of the 
ordinary reader, to whose mind, on all the topics connected with our 
history, he entirely gives the tone and the law. On every account, 
therefore, I shall dedicate the remainder of this lecture chiefly to the 
consideration of his work, that your confidence may not be given too 
implicitly, and that wliile you feel, as you ought to do, the charm of 
his composition, the charm of what Gibbon called so justly his care- 
less and inimitable beauties, you may be aware also of the objections 
that certainly exist to the general tendency and practical effect of his 
representations. 

The two great histories which we read, as I must again observe, 
are those of Rapin and Hume. Their poHtical sentiments are differ- 
ent ; but Hume is the author who, from his conciseness, the charms 
of his style, and the weight of his philosophical observations, is always 
preferred, and is far more universally and thoroughly read. 

It is impossible, indeed, that the confidence of a reader should not 
be won by the general air of calmness and good sense which, inde- 
pendent of other merits, distinguishes the beautiful narrative of 
Hiune. If he should turn to his authorities (speaking first on the 
favorable side of the question), he will then, and then only, be able 
to perceive the entire merit of this admirable writer, — the dexterity 
and sagacity with which he has often made out his recital, the ease 
and grace with wliich it is presented to the reader, and the valuable 
and penetrating remarks by which it is enriched. 

But, to speak next on the unfavorable side, by turning to the same 
authorities, we shall then only perceive the entire demerit of liis work. 
It is understood, indeed, by every reader, it has been proclaimed by 
many writers, that Hume always inclines to the side of prerogative ; 
that, in his account of the Stuarts, his History is Uttle better than an 
apology ; his pages are therefore read, in this part of his work at 
least, with something of distrust, and his representations are not con- 
sidered as decisive. But Avhat reader turns to consult his references 
or examine his original authorities ? What effect does this distrust, 
after all, produce ? Practically, none. In defiance of it, is not the 
general uifluence of liis work, on the general reader, just such as the 
author woiild himself have wished, — as strong and as permanent as 
if every statement and opinion in his History had deserved our per- 
fect assent and approbation ? 

12 H* 



90 LECTURE Y. 

I must confess that this appears to me so entirely the fact, judging 
from all that I have experienced in myself and observed in others, 
that I do not conceive a lecturer in history could render (could offer, 
at least) a more important service to an English auditory than by 
following Mr. Hume, step by step, through the whole of his account, 
and shomng what are his fair, and what his unfair inferences, — 
what his just representations, and what his improper colorings, — 
what his mistakes, and, above all, what his omissions, — in short, 
what are the dangers, and what the advantages, that must attend 
the perusal of so popular and able a performance. But such lectures, 
I apprehend, could not be listened to. Were they even formed into 
a treatise, they would be only in part perused by the general reader ; 
nor would they be properly and thoroughly considered by any but the 
most patient inquirers. 

I would wish, however, to make some eflFort of this kind, however 
slight and imperfect. A sort of specimen, perhaps, may be offered, 
— a general notion may, I hope, be given ; and as investigations of 
this nature are very repulsive and fatiguing, I shall fix only upon 
some one paragraph, the first that occurs, and examine it in all its 
important parts ; and, contenting myself with this example, leave my 
hearers to draw their own reflections, and pursue such inquiries to 
any further extent which they may hereafter judge expedient. 

I have already quoted a paragraph from the reign of Edward the 
Third, to show that the nature of the contest between prerogative and 
privilege always turned upon the same points through the whole of 
our liistory. It may also be remembered that I have always repre- 
sented the right of taxation as the most important question of all. 
Now the passage that immediately follows in Mr. Hume is this : — 

"• But there was no act of arbitrary power more frequently repeated 
in this reign than that of imposing taxes without consent of Parlia- 
ment. Though that assembly granted the king greater supplies than 
had ever been obtained by any of his predecessors, his great under- 
takings and the necessity of his affairs obliged him to levy still more ; 
and after his splendid success against France had added weight to 
his authority, these arbitrary impositions became almost annual and 
perpetual. Cotton's Abridgment of the Records affords numerous 
instances of this kind, in the first year of his reign, in the thirteenth 
year, in the fourteenth, in the twentieth, in the twenty-first, in the 
twenty-second, in the twenty-fifth, in the thirty-eighth, in the fiftieth, 
and in the fifty-first. 

" The king openly avowed and maintained this power of levying 
taxes at pleasure. At one time, he rephed to the remonstrance made 
by the Commons against it, that the impositions had been exacted 
from great necessity, and had been assented to by the prelates, earls, 
barons, and some of the Commons ; at another, that he would advise 
with his Council. When the Parhament desired that a law mi^ht be 



ENGLAND. 91 

enacted foi' the puiiisliment of such as levied these arbitrary impo- 
sitions, he refused comphance. In the subsequent year, they desired 
that the king might renounce this pretended prerogative ; but his 
answer was, that he would levy no taxes without necessity, for the 
defence of the realm, and where he reasonably might use that au- 
thority. This incident passed a few days before his death, and these 
were, in a manner, his last words to his people. It would seem that 
the famous charter or statute of Edward the First, ' De tallagio non 
concedendo,' though never repealed, was supposed to have abeady 
lost by age aU its authority. 

" These facts can only show the jyt'actice of the times ; for as to 
the right, the continual remonstrances of the Commons may seem to 
prove that it rather lay on their side ; at least, these remonstrances 
served to prevent the arbitrary practices of the court from becoming 
an estabhshed part of the constitution." 

Now here we have, certamly, very important statements. Let my 
hearer observe them. 

" But there was no act of arbitrary power more frequently repeated 
in this reign than that of imposing taxes without consent of Parha- 
ment." — " These arbitrary impositions became almost annual and 
perpetual." — " The king openly avowed and maintained this power 
of levying taxes at pleasure." — Such are Mr. Hume's expressions 
to represent the facts. 

" These facts," he continues, " can only show the practice of the 
times ; for as to the right, the continual remonstrances of the Com- 
mons may seem to prove that it rather lay on their side." — Such is 
the general air of his reasoning upon these facts. 

Now it cannot be supposed that a writer like Mr. Hume will be 
palpably and entirely unfair either in his facts or his reasonings, yet 
he may be sufficiently so to give his reader an impression on the 
whole not so favorable to the constitutional rights of the subject as 
the case admits of. 

The authority quoted is Cotton's Abridgment of the Records ; and 
on consulting the references of 3Ir. Hume, they will be seen to prove, 
.as he asserts, that money was raised by the king without the author- 
ity of Parliament. This must be considered as proved by the occa- 
sional complaints of the Commons, which in the references constantly 
appear ; but the still more important consideration is this, — what 
were the answers of the king to these complaints of the Commons ? 
Mr. Hume's assertion is, that " the king openly avowed and main- 
tained this power of levying taxes at pleasure. At one time," says 
Hume, " he replied to the remonstrance made by the Commons 
agamst it, ' that the impositions had been exacted from gi-eat neces- 
sity, and had been assented to by the prelates, earls, barons, and 
some of the Commons.' " Now even this answer, thus given by Mr. 
Hume, does not justify him in the assertion, that the king openly 



92 LECTURE V. 

avowed and maintained the power of levying taxes at pleasure ; — 
quite the contrary ; for the king alleged, not his right, but the necessi- 
ty of the case, and the assent of the Lords and part of the Commons. 
Upon looking, however, at Mr. Hume's reference in Cotton, page 
63, the real answer appears to have been as follows : — "If any such 
imposition be made, the same was made upon great necessity, and 
with the assent of the prelates, counts, barons, and other great men, 
and some of the Commons then present ; notwithstanding, the king 
wills not that such undue impositions be drawn into consequence." 
These last words, "notwithstanding," &c. &c., are totally omitted 
by Mr. Hume in his representation of the king's answer ; but they 
are evidently very material, and entirely opposed to Mr. Hume's 
affirmation, that the king openly avowed and maintained this power 
of levying taxes at pleasure, — in so much so, that they are the very 
words which are always used, when a particular exception is made to 
a general rule, and it is thought necessary to assert and acknowledge 
the general rule, and leave it as it stood before. The kmg's answer, 
in every part of it, particularly in this last omitted part, implies that 
the right of levying money could not be regularly exercised without 
the Parliament. 

Again. At another time, says Mr. Hume, the king replied, " that 
he would advise with his Council" ; but the real answer in the refer- 
ence in Cotton, page 57, is this, — " that the subsidy," of which 
they seem to have complained, " was granted for a time yet endur- 
ing^ within which time the king will advise with his Council what 
shall be best to be done therein for the good of the people." The 
first part of this answer, — " that the subsidy was granted for a 
time yet enduring^'' — which acknowledges the right of the Com- 
mons, is again totally omitted by Mr. Hume, and his representation 
is, that the king answered, " that he would advise with his Council." 

Again. " When the Parliament," says Mr. Hume, "desired that 
a law might be enacted for the punishment of such as levied these 
arbitrary impositions, he [the king] refused compliance." Upon 
consulting the reference, the petition of the Commons runs thus. 
They petition, " that such as shall of their own authority lay new 
impositions without assent of Parliament may lose life, member, and 
other forfeitures." In the House of Commons this was surely a most 
violent and objectionable mode of asserting their right of taxation, 
and well deserving the resistance of the king. The answer of the 
king was, — "Let the common law, heretofore used, run." Now 
this is not so much to refuse compliance, as to give a proper an- 
swer. On the whole, we have here neither the exact petition nor the 
exact answer that would have been supposed from the account given 
by Mr. Hume ; the words of the Commons Avould have been sup- 
posed, from Hume's expressions, more reasonable, and those of the 
kmg more authoritative and arbitrary, than they really were ; that 



ENGLAND. 93 

is, an improper representation is given of both tlie one and the 
other. 

" In the subsequent year," says Mr. Hume, " they desired that 
the king might renounce tliis pretended prerogative." The refer- 
ence which is printed in the margin of Hume, in some editions, 132, 
should be 152, and is more exactly represented by Mr. Hume than 
any of the rest. For the part of the Parliament roll referred to we 
are indebted to the diligence, not of Cotton, but of his editor, the 
famous Prynne. 

The petition from the Commons was for a general surrender of the 
right, totally and formally. But the king, whose end was now ap- 
proaching, having nothing further to hope or fear from his people, 
and not inclined by his own act formally to abandon for his successor 
a power which he had sometimes found it so convenient to exercise, 
returned for answer, as might have been expected, — " As to that, 
That no charge be laid upon the people but by common assent ; the 
king is not at all willing to do it, without gi'eat necessity, and for the 
defence of the realm, and where he may do it with reason." 

In those other instances which are produced by Mr. Hume to prove 
the practice of arbitrary impositions, mstances where Mr. Hume 
quotes no answer, there is either no answer from the king on record, 
or one that is sootliing and apologetical, or one that is favorable to 
the right of the House of Commons. Indeed, the king's very sUence 
must be considered as favorable to their right. 

In one of the first instances of complaint referred to by Hume, the 
answer was, — " Forasmuch as these charges were ordained " — al- 
luding to charges ordained by the Privy Council without the Com- 
mons — " for safe conduct of merchandises into the realm and forth 
to foreign parts, upon which conduct the king hath spent much, which 
before Michaelmas cannot well be levied, it seemeth that the levying 
of it, for so small a time to come, should not be grievous." This is 
apologetical. Again ; some merchants had farmed the customs and 
subsidies, and raised the rate above that mentioned by Parhament ; 
the Commons complained ; the answer was, — " Let the merchants 
be called into Parliament and answer." In another instance of com- 
plaint not mentioned by j\Ir. Hume, the answer was the same as 
one already cited, — " That the imposition was made upon great ne- 
cessity, with the assent of the courts, &c., and some of the Commons, 
and that the king wills not that such imposition be unduly drawn in 
consequence." 

The student, after having weighed these answers, is then to reflect 
upon the great ability, attractive qualities, military talents, and bril- 
liant victories of tliis renowned monarch, Edward the Third; and 
he must then consider whether no stronger conclusion can be drawn 
from the whole than what Mr. Hume leaves with his readers, which 
is this: that, "as to the right [of taxation], the continual remon- 



94 LECTURE V. 

strances of tlie Commons may seon to prove that it rather lay on 
their side." 

The passage that has been thus taken from Mr. Hmne was not 
selected as one in which he was either faulty or otherwise in his rep- 
resentations, but as one that exhibited, in the smallest compass, the 
nature of the constitution at that time, and ever after, till 1688, and 
as one that involved more especially the question of the right of taxor 
tion. It was literally the first that I tried. On examination, how- 
ever, it turns out that we do not arrive at the conclusions which Mr. 
Hume has drawn for us ; far from it ; and we are thus taught to be 
more than ever suspicious of the historian's particular prejudices. 
And, on the whole, this instance will show you that you must not 
take it for granted that Mr. Hume accurately represents even the 
very authorities he quotes ; so irresistible, in these cases, is the influ- 
ence of the sentiments of the mind over the operations of the under- 
standing. 

I stop to observe, that, as a lecturer on history, I can only point 
out to you fields of inquiry and trains of reasoning, and it must be 
left for you to do the rest. 

Thus, I have just now drawn your attention to one great line of 
objection to Mr. Hume's History, — his maccurate representation of 
the very authorities he quotes. You must yourselves pursue the 
subject. 

But I will now mention another, — the coloring which he gives to 
his materials, and this more particularly in a manner of his own. He 
ascribes to the personages of history, as they pass before him, the 
views and opinions of later ages, — those sentiments and reasonings, 
for instance, which his own enlightened and powerful mind Avas en- 
abled to form, not those which either really were or could be formed 
by men thinking and acting many centuries before. But this is to 
mislead the reader, and, in fact, to draw him aside from all the proper 
instruction of history, much of which lies in the comparison of one 
age with another. 

I will refer to an instance, taken from the times we are now con- 
sidering, as a general specimen of what I conceive to be one of the 
most common and serious faults that can be objected to in the attrac- 
tive pages of his History. 

In his account of the unfortunate close of the reign of Richard the 
Second, Mr. Hume observes, that one man alone, the Bishop of Car- 
lisle, had the courage, amid the general disloyalty and violence, to 
appear in defence of his unhappy master, and to plead his cause 
against all the power of the prevailing party. He then gives a repre- 
sentation of the speech. But if we turn to Sir John Hay ward's His- 
tory (the authority which Hume himself quotes), we may there see 
the speech fully given ; and it will be found not without its beauties, 
but certainly very inferior to the representation of it which is exhib- 



ENGLAND. 95 

ited in Hume. The philosophic observations which are interwoven 
and added bj Mr. Hume serve to give a great force and finish to the 
expostulations of the bishop in favor of the fallen monarch ; but the 
more important consideration is, that thej serve also to throw over 
the proceedings of the barons an air of greater violence and criminal- 
it j than properly belongs to them ; for their conduct rises up in still 
stronger contrast, if such views of the English constitution and of the 
principles of government could indeed have been taken and urged in 
such an assembly by a contemporary statesman, a man of like pas- 
sions and like information with themselves. 

I will venture to take up yovir time by considering more minutely 
the instance before us. Observe, first, the beautiful reasonings of 
Hume : it would be not a little marvellous, if they had been produced 
by the Bishop of Carlisle in the time of Richard the Second. " He 
represented," says Hume, " to the Parliament, that all the abuses of 
government which could justly be imputed to Richard, far from 
amounting to tyramiy, were merely the result of error, youth, or mis- 
guided counsel" ; this, though in different words, the bishop did say: 
" and admitted," continues Mr. Hume, " of a remedy more easy 
and salutary than a total subversion of the constitution " ; this, which 
is of a more philosophic cast, the bishop did not say. Now mark 
what immediately follows in Hume ; not any such observation as was 
very likely to be offered by the bishop to the barons, or even to have 
occurred to the mind of Sir John Hay ward himself, two centuries after- 
wards, but the very observation which contains the whole of the phi- 
losophy of JNIr. Hume wliile writing the History of England, — the 
great principle by means of which he defends all the arbitrary pro- 
ceedings of our monarchs, and by which he reconciles his unwary 
readers to the admission of sentiments and opinions unfavorable to 
the best interests and assured rights of the popular part of our con- 
stitution. The bishop represented to the Lords, continues Mr. Hume, 
that even had these abuses of government " been much more ^dolent 
and dangerous than they really were, they had chiefly proceeded 
from former examples of resistance, which, making the prince sensi- 
ble of his precarious situation, had obliged him to establish his throne 
by irregular and arbitrary expedients " : the bishop said nothing of 
the sort. And now observe the next remark that follows in Hume, 

— how worthy of the generalizing mind of the philosopher of the 
eighteenth century ; how little likely to have been addressed by a 
warm-hearted ecclesiastic to the disorderly barons of the fourteenth, 

— that " laws could never secure the subject, which did not give 
security to the sovereign ; and if the maxim of inviolable loyalty, 
which formed the basis of the English government, were once re- 
jected, the pri\'ileges belonging to the several orders of the state, 
instead of being fortified by that licentiousness, would thereby lose 
the surest foundation of their force and stability." 



96 LECTURE V. 

All this is very true, and worthy of a great reasoner like Mr. 
Hume, when applying the powers of his mind to the subject of gov- 
ernment ; and all this may be cheerfully assented to by the warmest 
partisan of popular privileges ; and the more so, because it is at length 
understood, that the king can act only by his ministers ; and tliat 
though the king must be secure, that his mind may be at rest on the 
subject of his prerogative, and that the security also of his people 
may be thus undisturbed, still that his ministers need not ; that they 
are responsible, at least, though the sovereign be not ; that, in short, 
there is some one responsible, and that the community is not left at 
the mercy of fortune, and without any reasonable means of watching 
over its own interests. 

No such interpretation, however, of this great principle of govern- 
ment is added by Mr. Hume ; and neither the principle so stated, nor 
the interpretation, is to be found in Sir John liayward ; and it was 
not in tliis philosophic manner that the bishop reasoned, according to 
the representation of Sir John Hayward ; his arguments were founded 
merely upon the obvious doctrines of passive obedience and the di- 
vine right of kings. " I will not speak," said the bishop, according 
to Sir John Hayward, " what may be done in a popular state or in a 

consular In these and such like governments, the prince 

hath not regal rights But if the sovereign majesty be in the 

prince, as it was in the three first empires, and in the kingdom of 
Judea and Israel, and is now in the kingdoms of England, France, 
Spain, Scotland, Muscovia, Turkey, Tartaria, Persia, Ethiopia, and 
almost all the kingdoms of Asia and Africke," — very like the philo- 
sophic reasonmgs of Hmne, all this ! England, Ethiopia, and Africke ! 
— " although, for his vices, he be unprofitable to the subjects, yea 
hurtful, yea intolerable, yet can they lawfully neither harm his per- 
son nor hazard his power, whether by judgment or else by force ; for 
neither one nor all magistrates have any authority over the prince, 
from whom all authority is deiived, and whose only presence doth 
silence and suspend all inferior jurisdiction and power. As for force, 
what subject can attempt, or assist, or counsel, or conceal violence 
against his prince, and not incur the high and heinous crime of trea- 
son?" 

The bishop then goes on to quote the instance of Nebuchadnezzar, 
of Balthasar, of Saul, and then insists, that " not only our actions, but 
our speeches also, and our very thoughts, are strictly charged with 
duty and obedience unto princes, whether they be good or evil ; that 
the law of God ordaineth, that he which doth presumptuously against 
the ruler of the people shall die ; that we are not to touch the Lord's 
anointed, nor rail upon the judges, neither speak evil against the 
ruler of the people ; that the Apostles do demand, further, that even 
our thoughts and souls be obedient to higher powers ; and lest any 
should imagine that they meant of good princes only, they speak 



ENGLAND. 97 

generally of all ; and further, to take awaj all doubt, they make ex- 
press mention of the evil," &c., &c. 

The bishop then goes on to illustrate his doctrine by the considera- 
tion of the domestic relation of parent and cliild. " The son must 
not lift up his hand," says he, " against the father, though, for all 
excess of villanies, odious and execrable both to God and man ; but 
our country is dearer unto us than our parents, and the prince is 
patcT 2)atrice, the father of our country, and therefore, &c., &c., must 
not be violated, how imperious, how impious soever he be. Doth he 
command or demand our persons or our pvirses, we must not shun for 
the one nor shrink for the other; for, as Nehemiah saith," continues 
the bishop, " kings have dominion over the bodies and over the cattle 

of their subjects, at their pleasure Yea, the Church hath 

declared it to be an heresy to hold that a prince may be slain or de- 
posed by his subjects for any disorder or default, either in hfe or else 
in government." 

Such is the reasoning of the bishop, as given by Sir John Hay- 
ward. And his philosophy, when it appears, is the following : — 
" There will be faults so long as there are men ; and as we endure 
with patience a barren year, if it happen, and unseasonable weather, 
and such other defects of nature, so must we tolerate the imperfec- 
tions of rulers and quietly expect either reformation or else a change." 
This is the first specimen of it, and the only remaining philosophic 
position that I can observe is the following : — "Oh, how shall the 
world be pestered with tyrants, if subjects may rebel upon every pre- 
tence of t}Tanny ! " The instances that follow to illustrate this re- 
mark are not well chosen by the bishop : — '"If they levy a subsidy 
or any other taxation, it shall be claimed oppression," &c., &c. 

And now what will my hearer suppose, if I tell him that I believe 
the speech thus given by Sir John Hayward to the good bishop is 
wholly the composition of Sir John himself; and that, though the 
general statement of passive obedience may have been expressed by 
the bishop, no such words were uttered as he describes ? Walsing- 
ham takes no notice of the bishop's speech. Another historian, Hall, 
but about the time of Sir John Hayward, says that the bishop did 
rise up in his place and speak ; and the doctrines of passive obedi- 
ence are put into his mouth by Hall. The same is done in the play 
of Richard the Second, by Shakspeare. And these doctrines were, 
possibly, the topics that he chiefly insisted upon ; but the only fact 
that can now be ascertained is, that he was thro-wn into prison for 
words spoken in Parliament in opposition to the usurpation of Henry ; 
and on this has been founded the very elaborate speech of Sir John 
Havward, and the very improbable arguments ascribed to him by 
Hume. Now all this is not to write history, either in Mr. Hume or 
in Sir John Hayward. 

And this instance Avill be sufficient to show you, as before, the par- 
13 I 



98 LECTURE V. 

ticular description of fault which may be objected to Mr. Hume, — 
that of coloring the materials before him, and attributing to the per- 
sonages of history the sentiments of his own philosophic mind ; and 
this second description of fault is to be added to the former which I 
have mentioned, — that of not accurately representing the very pas- 
sages he quotes. 

In the next page of his History, indeed, when Mr. Hume comes to 
comment upon ':he title of Henry the Fourth to the crown, he attrib- 
utes a speech to the king, and properly, for he can extract from the 
rolls of Parliament the very words which the king made use of. 
This Mr. Hume does, and this is to write history. 

The words extracted are certainly very remarkable, and very de- 
scriptive of the scene and the age ; but it is relics of this kind that 
an historian should produce and make the subject of the philosophic 
meditation of his reader, not oifer him modern views and sentiments 
of his own. A few barbarous words, or any distinct fact, that can 
be shown to be authentic, are worth volumes of reasonings and con- 
jectures of a thinking mind ; or rather, it is on such relics and facts 
that the student must in the first place alone depend when he col- 
lects materials for his instruction, and he must never lose sight of 
them when he comes afterwards to build up his political reasonings 
and conclusions. 

It is upon this account, and it is to impress this lesson upon your 
recollection, that I have gone into this detail, and perhaps not a little 
exercised your patience. It is for this reason, and for another, — 
to show you the importance of the political principles of men ; a point 
which I must for ever enforce in the course of these lectures. First 
observe the general remarks of Hume. " Though some topics," says 
Mr. Hume, while introducing the passages I have just quoted from 
him, " though some topics employed by that virtuous prelate [the 
Bishop of Carlisle] may seem to favor too much the doctrine of pas- 
sive obedience, &c., &c., such intrepidity as well as disinterestedness 
of behaviour proves," says Mr. Hume, " that, whatever his specu- 
lative principles were, his heart was elevated far above the meanness 
and abject submission of a slave." Undoubtedly it does : this ob- 
servation of Mr. Hume is very just, and therefore it is more incum- 
bent upon me, as your lecturer, to impress upon your minds the im- 
portance of your political principles, that you may endeavour to be 
wise as well as virtuous. It is but too plain, from the historian's own 
account, that men of the most noble feelings and honorable character, 
such as the bishop is here supposed by Mr. Hume to have been, 
may, on public occasions, act upon principles and enforce political 
doctrines which can have no tendency but to make their fellow-crea- 
tures base and servile, whatever they may be themselves, by injuring 
and destroying the only source of all elevated character in a people, 
the free principles of the constitution of their government. It is of 



ENGLAND. 99 

little consequence, that men may not have, themselves, the feelings 
of slaves, if they propagate doctrines that will practically and in the 
result make a nation of slaves around them. 

But to return to Hume. Gilbert Stuart, a very able, though 
somewhat impetuous, inquirer into the earlier parts of our history, 
has pronounced his opinion upon the work of Mr. Hume in the fol- 
lowing words : — " From its beginning to its conclusion, it is chiefly 
to be regarded as a plausible defence of prerogative. As an elegant 
and a spu-ited composition, it merits every commendation. But no 
friend to humanity, and to the freedom of this kingdom, will con- 
sider his constitutional inquiries, with their effect on his narrative, 
and compare them with the ancient and venerable monuments of our 
story, without feeling a lively surprise and a patriot indignation." 
This opinion, however severe, is not very different from that which 
is in general entertained by others who from previous study are 
competent to decide, — and this, while the literary merits of the 
History are universally acknowledged. The student will therefore 
read with more than ordinary care what he is told is so fitted at 
once to charm his taste and to mislead his understanding. 

Since I drew up this lecture, a work has been published by Mr. 
Brodie, of Edinburgh. It is not well written in point of style, and 
the author must be considered as a writer on the popular side, but 
he is a man of research and independence of mind. It is a work of 
weight and learning, and it appears to me for ever to have dam- 
aged, and most materially damaged, the character of Mr. Hume as 
an accurate historian. It justifies the opinion I have just alluded 
to, as pronoimced by Gilbert Stuart, and maintained by others com- 
petent to decide. 

I must observe, before I conclude, that it is the general effect of 
the narrative of this able historian that is of so much importance. 
Particular passages might be drawn from liis work of every descrip- 
tion, favorable as well as unfavorable to the privileges of the subject. 
But the sentiments conveyed by such particular passages, taken 
singly, do m fact stand opposed to the general impression that 
results from the whole. Were a popular Avriter to seek for observa- 
tions favorable to the cause of the liberties of England, he would 
often find them nowhere better expressed ; but their being found in 
the History of Hume is a circumstance quite analogous to what con- 
stantly obtains in every literary performance, where the author has, 
on whatever accovmt, a general purpose to accompUsh, which the 
nature of his subject does not in strict reason allow. Truth is then 
continually mLxed up with misrepresentation, and the whole mass of 
the reasoning, which in its final impression is materially wrong, is so 
interspersed with observations which are in themselves perfectly 
right, that the reader is at no time sufficiently on his guard, and is 
at last betrayed into conclusions totally unwarrantable, and at vari- 



100 LECTURE V. 

ance with his best feelings and soundest opinions. Observe the 
writings of Rochefoucauld or Mandeville ; you will there see what I 
am describing, — as, indeed, you may in every work where the 
author is deceived himself or is deceiving others. 

One word more and I conclude, — one word as an estimate of the 
whole subject between Mr. Hume and his opponents. 

In the first place, we may agree with Mr. Hiime, that the whole 
of our history during the period from Edward the First to Henry 
the Eighth was a scene of irregularity and of great occasional vio- 
lence, — that neither could the laws be always maintained, nor could 
the principles of legislation ever be said to be well understood ; we 
must admit, therefore, that it is not fair to imagine, as Mr. Hume 
complains we do, that all the princes who were unfortunate in their 
government were necessarily tyrannical in their conduct, and that 
resistance to the monarch always proceeded from some attempt 
on his part to invade the privileges of the subject. This we must 
admit. 

But, in the second place, it must be observed, that the struggle 
between the subject and the crown was constantly kept up in the 
times of the most able as well as of the weakest monarchs ; that they 
who resisted the prerogative never did it without producing those 
maxims and without asserting those principles of freedom which are 
necessary to all rational government, — which are by no means fitted 
in themselves to produce anarchy, and by no means inconsistent with 
all those salutary prerogatives of the crown which are requisite to 
the regular protection of the subject. 

In the third place, that, if these maxims and principles had not 
been from time to time asserted, and sometimes with success, the re- 
sult must have been that our constitution would have degenerated, 
like that of France and of every other European state, into a system 
of monarchical power, unUmited and unrestrained by the interfer- 
ence of any legislative assemblies. 

And that therefore, in the last place, Mr. Hume tells the story of 
England without giving sufficient praise to those patriots who pre- 
served and transmitted those general habits of thinldng on political 
subjects which have always distinguished this country, and to which 
alone every Englishman owes, at this day, all that makes his life a 
blessing and his existence honorable. 



ENGLAND. 101 



LECTURE yi. 

ENGLAND. 

In my last lecture I called your attention to England. After 
sliOAving you that in the consideration of its history we soon arrived 
at the same points as in the history of the rest of Europe, I men- 
tioned to you, that there were before you the facts of our history 
and the philosophy of it ; that you were to acquire a knowledge of 
the one, but that you must endeavour to understand the other ; 
above all, that the constitutional history of your country must be 
your great object of inquiry ; that Rapin, Hume, and Millar must 
be your authors ; at the same time I referred you to other sources 
of information and other historians. 

Next, I stated to you, that a difference in the opinions of men had 
existed and always must exist in every mixed form of government ; 
that there must always be those who favor the monarchical and 
those who favor the popular part of it ; that through the whole of 
our history, down to 1688, there had been maintained a struggle 
between prerogative and privilege ; and that no thoroughly impartial 
historian of our annals could be found. 

Lastly, I attempted to give you some general description of the 
merits of Hume, the most popular and the most able, and therefore 
the most important, of our historians. I endeavoured to pi^otect you, 
or rather to enable you to protect yourselves, from the mistakes mto 
which you might fall, if you depended on his representations, if you 
rested upon them with that confidence which his evident good sense 
and apparent calmness and impartiality would naturally inspire. 
His references, as I then showed you, do not always bear him out in 
his statements ; and his omissions must be taken into account, as well 
as his misrepresentations ; — this is the first pomt. But he ascribes 
to those who acted in the earlier scenes of our history sentiments 
and opinions which belong only to his ovm philosophic mind ; — this 
is the second. On the whole, he does not tell the story of our con- 
stitutional history fairly. He must, in his facts, be compared with 
Rapin, — if necessary, with original authorities; and in his philoso- 
phy, with Millar and others. 

And now I must digress for a moment, to offer you a remark 
which I hope you will hereafter not think very unnatural for me to 
have made on the present occasion. 

It is wonderful, then, I must observe, it is wonderful to see men 
hke Mr. Hume, of peacefid habits and of benevolent affections, men 
at the same time of improved minds and of excellent sense, — it is 

I* 



102 LECTURE VI. 

wonderful to see them so indifferent to the popular pri\dleges of the 
community. Yet is this a sort of phenomenon that we witness every 
day. Such men would not in practice vindicate themselves from 
oppression by rising up in arms against their arbitrary governors ; 
they are not of a temperament to set their lives upon a cast. What 
possible chance, then, have they for the security of their property, 
for the very freedom of their persons, above all, for the exercise of 
their minds, but the existence of popular privileges ? To them, 
above all other men, civil freedom is every thing. 

Civil freedom cannot, indeed, exist without the existence at the 
same time of executive power, that is, of prerogative. Men mvist 
be protected from the multitude. But surely it can still less exist 
without the existence of popular privileges ; because society must be 
protected from the few, as well as from the many, — from the inso- 
lence, injustice, and caprice of the high, as of the low. The mistake 
that is made seems to be, that it is supposed popular privileges will 
always lead to disorder and render the government insecure. 

The very reverse is the fact ; so much so, that certain privileges 
may be trusted, not merely to legislative bodies, men of property and 
education (which is the first and main point to be contended for) , but 
even to the lowest orders of the people ; the very rabble can learn to 
know how far they are to go, and with this, as with their right, to be 
content and advance no farther. The advantages obtained in the 
cheerfulness and vigor that are thus imparted to the whole political 
system of a country are above all price, and the occasional excesses 
of a mob are an evil trifling, and, in comparison, of no account. 

Men of arbitrary or timid minds will not understand this, and 
men bred under arbitrary governments never can. Foreigners, who 
survey, for instance, one of our popular elections at Brentford or 
Westminster, generally suppose that our government is to break up 
in the course of the week, and have been known to announce to their 
correspondents on the Continent, and even to their courts, an ap- 
proaching revolution. The mob, in the mean time, know very well 
the limits within which they may for a time disturb the peace of the 
community, and they therefore sing their ballads, hoot their superi- 
ors, remind them (very usefully) of their faults and follies, parade 
the streets, and brandish their bludgeons; but as to an insurrec- 
tion or revolution, no enterprise of the kind ever enters into their 
thoughts ; certainly it makes no part of their particular bill of the 
performances. 

In a word, power is like money ; men should be accustomed, as 
much as possible, as much as they can bear, to the handling of it, 
that they may learn the proper use of it. They are so, more or less, 
in free governments ; not so in arbitrary ; and this is the circum- 
stance which always constitutes the insecurity of arbitrary govern- 
ments, while they stand, and the difficulty of improving them, when 
they can stand no longer. 



ENGLAND. 103 

"Where popular privileges exist, the monarch can always distin- 
guish between the characters of a lawful sovereign and an arbitrary 
ruler ; so can his counsellors, so can his people. These are advan- 
tages totally invaluable. The world has nothing to do with certainty 
and security ; but popular privileges afford the best chance of real 
tranquillity, strength, and happiness to all the constituent parts of a 
body politic, — the monarch, the aristocracy, and the people. 

Far from vie-^ving the popular part of our mixed constitution with 
the indifference, or suspicion, or dislike, or hostility, which Mr. 
Hume and others seem to do, nothing, as I conceive, can be so per- 
fectly reasonable or truly philosophic as the interest, the anxiety, the 
reverence, with which Millar and others have pursued the history of 
the democratic part of our constitution through our most eventful 
annals. 

Do not fail to observe that the two great countries of Europe, 
France and England, set out from beginnings much the same ; 
but France lost her constitution, and England not. How was this ? 
I ask the student ; and let him ask, in his turn, the authors I recom- 
mend, — the Abbe de INIably, and Hume, and Rapin, and Blackstone, 
and, above all, Millar. Surely the question will not be an indifferent 
one to him. He deserves not the name of Englishman, if it be. 

I must enter a little more into the subject, though detail is im- 
possible. 

The three great points are always, — 1st, What is the law ? 2d, 
Who are the legislators ? and lastly, and above all. What are the 
general spirit and habits of thinking in the community ? 

Take, then, the long period before us, from the departure of the 
Romans to the reign of Henry the Eighth. 

1st. What was the law, — the constitutional law more particular- 
ly, if I may so speak? — You Avill find the Idstory of it given you, 
in a manner sufficiently concise and intelligible, in many parts of 
Blackstone and in Millar. You must mark its gradual improve- 
ments, and you must mark them again and again, through different 
periods, down to our own. I speak now chiefly of the first and 
fourth volumes of Blackstone. In former courses of my lectures, I 
had mentioned a few of the principal changes that took place ; but I 
now think it best to refer to Blackstone and Millar, and to do no 
more. I do not occupy your time with what you may better find 
elsewhere. 

But, 2dly, who have been the legislators ? — This is a very curious 
part of our history. There was once a Witenagemote, or great 
national assembly. How was it constituted, and what were its pow- 
ers ? But we have no such assembly now. When, therefore, did it 
cease ? and, when it did cease, how came another assembly to arise, 
— a Parliament, a House of Barons or Lords ? But more ; we 
have now not only one assembly, but two, — not only a House of 



104 LECTURE YI. 

Lords, but a House of Commons. This is surely still more extraor- 
dinary. Not only the barons, the aristocracy, have their house of 
assembly, but the commonalty, the people, have, in some way or 
other, obtained the same. But how, or when, or why ? — Such are 
the obicets of inquiry which I have to offer to your curiosity. 

I will first say a word on the origin of these two different houses 
of assembly ; secondly, on the origin and growth of the ditlercnt 
prerogatives and privileges belonging to each estate, of king, lords, 
and counnons. 

The great facts of this first subject, those that you are especially 
to observe, seem to be these: — that there was first a Witenage- 
mote, or Great Council ; that this Witenagemote existed before 
and soon after the Concpiest, but that it at length ceased, or the 
name was altered into that of Parliament. Now, unfortunately, no 
records exist of this Witenagemote and Parliament after the Con- 
quest, so that we cannot ascertain what were the qualifications that 
gave a seat in those assemblies, or how the one Avas gradually 
changed into the other. 

Tlie next facts are, that burgesses from the towns were summoned 
by Leicester, at the close of the reign of Henry the Third, after- 
wards by Edward the First, and the succeeding monarclis ; and 
lastly, that, in the course of the reign of Edward the Third, the 
lesser thanes or knights of the shire had been incorporated with the 
burgesses, and they had become together a separate house. But of 
these most important events, this rise of a second house of assembly, 
or regular estate, and this mixture of the knights of the shire with 
the burgesses, no detail or history can be given; no sufficient records 
exist. All this is very unfortunate. 

You will now, therefoi'e, understand how easily our anticjuarians 
and patriots may dispute on the origin and growth of our House of 
Commons. But on this subject you will observe what is said by Gil- 
bert Stuart on the one side, by Hume on the other. You must, on 
the whole, be decided, I think, by Millar. 

This lecture was written many ^^ears ago ; but I may now mention, 
that you may note what is said by Burke, in his Abridgment of the 
English History, Avhere he speaks of the Witenagemote. There are 
also two articles in the Edinburgh Review, volume xxvi. in March, 
1817,* which you may consider. 

These works and their references will enable you to go through all 
the learning connected with the subject ; though I conceive the works 
themselves will be quite sufficient for your information, quite suffi- 
cient to enable you to form your opinion. I will give you, in a few 
words, some idea of the reasonings of these writers. 

* There is a decrrcc of confusion in this reforcnco. The articles alluded to are 
probably one in vol. xxvi. (June, ISIG) on tlie Constitution of Parliament, and one in 
vol. xxviii. (March, 1S17) on Annual Parliaments, &c. — N. 



ENGLAND, 105 

The constitution, then, and office of the Witenagemotc seem to 
have been as anaIo;^ou3 to those of the free assemblies we read of in 
Tacitus as the different nature of two different, though kindred, 
periods of society would lead us to expect. The principal powers of 
government were vested in this great council. It decided on peace 
and war, and on all military concerns ; it made laws ; and it concur- 
red in the exercise of the royal prerogative, as far as we can observe, 
on all occasions. The ivitea or sajnentes are always supposed or re- 
ferred to in the documents that have reached as ; but who these 
wites or sapientes were cannot now be accurately determined, and, 
in the first place, a controversy has arisen with respect to the consti- 
tution of this gi-eat council, whether it was entirely aristocratical or 
only partly so ; and this is, in truth, the dispute of the origin of the 
House of Commons. 

Stuart and others contend, that the people had always their share 
in the legislature, that they were even represented in the Witena- 
gemotc ; and, to support this opuiion, various expressions are pro- 
duced from such documents as have come down to us : — " Seniores, 
sapientes populi mei," — " Convocato communi concilio tarn cleri quam 
populi," — " Prsesentibus et subscribentibus archiepiscopis, kc, «fcc., 
proceriimque totius terriB, aliorumque fidelium infinita multitudine." 

But to this it is replied by Millar, that these expressions, if they 
prove any thing, prove too much, for they go to prove that all the 
people, even those of the lowest rank, personally voted in the national 
council. And it is urged by Hume, among other remarks, that the 
members of the Witenagemote are almost always called the pj-incipes, 
mar/nates, ])roceres, &c., — terms which seem to suppose an aris- 
tocracy ; that the boroughs also, from the low state of commerce, 
were so small and so poor, and the inhabitants in such dependence on 
the great men, that it seems in no wise probable that they would be 
admitted as part of the national council. And the various remarks 
and arguments of Millar, a zealous protector of the popular part of 
our constitution, take the same general ground, and are on the whole 
decisive. 

The most important remark, however, made by Stuart, on the 
other side of the question, is a reference to a paper in the oth of 
Richard the Second. In the latter end of the passage (to the former 
part a reply might be made) are these remarkable words : — " And 
if any sheriff of the realm be from henceforth negligent in making 
his returns of writs of the Parliament, or that he leave out of the 
said returns any cities or boroughs which be bound and of old time 
were wont to come to the Parliament, he shall be amerced," &c. 
" Of old time^^ you will observe. The intervening space of two or 
three reigns, it is contended, between the 49th of Henry the Third 
and 5th of Ptichard the Second (about a century) could never give 
occasion to the use of such an expression as the " old time." 
14 



106 LECTURE VI. 

Again, Lord Lyttelton, in his Life of Henry tlie Second, goes 
through a very candid and temperate inquiry into this question, and 
he thinks the Commons was originally a part of the national council 
or Parliament. The strongest evidence he produces is drawn from 
the two celebrated instances of the petitions sent, one by the borough 
of St. Albans, the other by Barnstaple. 

The words are given by Lyttelton in the petition from St. Albans ; 
they pray to send burgesses, " prout totis retroactis temporibus venire 
consueverunt, &c., tempore Eclwardi [I.], &c., et progenitorum su- 
orum." The date of this petition is 1315, in the time of Edward 
the Second, and it is contended that such words must mean a period 
before the 49th of Henry the Third, the supposed origin of the 
House of Commons, which was only fifty-one years before : " totis 
retroactis temporibus," &c. It is, therefore, curious to observe what 
was the answer made. 

The answer to the petition was, — " Scrutentur rotuli, &c., si tempori- 
bus progenitorum regis burgenses pr?edicti solebant venire vel non." 
Now this answer would be somewhat strange, on the supposition that 
the 49 th of Henry the Third was the date of the origin of the House 
of Commons. " Let the rolls be searched," &c., &c., to find what, 
if the origin of the Commons was only fifty-one years back, it was 
well known could not possibly exist. And yet, after all, this might 
be the technical mode of making answer, the legal and formal way 
of telling the petitioners that they were talking nonsense. 

Agam, Avith respect to the second petition, that from Barnstaple. 
Barnstaple founds its rights on a charter of Athelstan, which would 
have been again somewhat ridiculous, if these rights had been known 
(as they might have been) to have originated in the time of Henry 
the Third, only eighty-one years before the time of this petition in 

Thus we have three distinct testimonies : the words of the Act of 
Parhament, the words " old time," in the time of Richard the 
Second, one hundred and eighteen years after the 49th of Henry 
the Third ; the words of this petition from Barnstaple, eighty-one 
years; and those in the petition from St. Albans, fifty-one years 
after. 

But to all this it is answered, that instances may be produced 
where distinct falsehoods are asserted in petitions to Parliament in 
the way of pretension, when towns and boroughs are speaking of 
their former history, and that this may be the case in these petitions 
from St. Albans and Barnstaple. The town* said it had never been 
represented before, though it had made before not less than twenty- 
two returns. 

* Not St. Albans, nor Barnstaple, — as is clearly manifest from what is previously 
said of the tenor of their petitions, and from the whole course of the reasoning on 
the subject, in the text. Their pretensions were of a character exactly opposite to 



ENGLAND. 107 

Dr. Lingard thinks that these expressions are a sort of verbiage ; 
so endless are the difficulties of this curious subject. And you will 
also observe, that, first, Spelmau could find no summons of a burgess 
before the 49th of Henry the Third. Again, Daines Barrington de- 
clares, in a note, page 49 of his Observations on the Ancient Stat- 
utes, " that no one can read the old historians and chronicles who 
will observe the least allusion* or trace of the Commons having been 
anciently a part of the legislature, if he does not sit do'wn to the peru- 
sal with an intention of proving that they formed a component part." 
And jNIr. Burke, in his English History, after struggling with the sub- 
ject for some little time, observes, — " All these things are, I think, 
sufficient to show of what a visionary nature those systems are which 
would settle the ancient constitution in the most remote times exactly 
in the same form in which we enjoy it at tliis day ; not considering 
that such mighty changes in manners, during so many ages, always 
must produce a considerable change in laws, and in the forms as well 
as the powers of all governments." 

On the whole, the favorers of the popular mterest would have done 
better, I think, to have contented themselves with resisting any im- 
proper conclusions that might have been drawn against popular privi- 

those here spoken of, — • not that they had never been represented before, but that they 
had always, or from a very remote period, been represented ; and they pray, accordingly, 
that this right may be continued to them. The town here refeiTed to, the name of 
which is thus inadvertently omitted by Professor Smyth, is undoubtedly the same that 
we find mentioned in the following passage from Hallam's Middle Ages, Chapter viii. 
Part 3 : — " The elective franchise was deemed by the boroughs no privilege or bless- 
ing, but rather, during the chief part of this period, an intolerable grievance. Where 
they could not persuade the sheritf to omit sending his writ to them, they set it at de- 
fiance by making no return. And this seldom failed to succeed ; so that after one or 
two refusals to comply, which brought no punisliment upon them, they were left in 
quiet enjoyment of their insignificance. The town of Torrington, in Devonshire, went 
farther, and obtained a charter of exemption from sending burgesses, grounded upon 
what the charter asserts to appear on the rolls of chancery, — that it had never been 
represented before the 21st of Edward the Third. This is absolutely false, and is a 
proof how little we can rely upon the veracity of records, — Ton-ington having made 
not less than twenty-two returns before tliat time." — N. 

* Professor Smyth quotes from the first edition of Barrington's work, published in 
1766. In the third edition, published in 1769, the expression, "</ie least, allusion,"' 
which the author seems upon reflection to have regarded as an overstatement, is modi- 
fied to " any strong allusion." This modification, though of some importance in itself 
considered, does not, however, materially aflfect the main bearing of the passage as a 
whole, in its present connection. 

To those who may have occasion to consult the work here referred to, it may be 
important to know that the first edition is j)ronounced by the author, in tlie preface to 
the third, ''an hasty publication," marked by "many defects," and "not so accurate in 
many particulars as it should have been." The second seems to have been but little 
improved ; and soon after it was published, it was found necessaiy, in consequence of 
the discovery of a large ])ody of new materials, to suppress the copies which remained 
unsold, and to issue a third. This third edition, besides "very considerable additions," 
covering nearly two hundred pages, by which the original was enlarged more than one 
fourth, contains numci'ous important corrections; it is material to observe, also, that the 
work now appeared, for the first time, under the sanction of the author's name. The 
last edition, therefore, is obviously the one which sliould always be used, wliether for 
study or citation : the use of the first for the quotation given in the text, it is hardly 
necessary to remark, was undoubtedly accidental. — N. 



108 LECTURE VI. 

leges from tlie non-appearance of the commons in the Witenagemote. 
Their absence (for I tliink their absence must be admitted) may 
surely be accounted for without any prejudice to the popular cause ; 
and the propriety of their appearance in the national councils of a 
subsequent period may in like manner be shown without difficulty, on 
every principle of natural justice and political expediency. 

Since writing the above, an important work has appeared on the 
Dark Ages, by Mr. Hallam. The question to which I have just al- 
luded is there discussed with great dihgence, temper, and learning. 
I do not know that the general impression which you will have al- 
ready received from me will be altered by a reference to his work, 
but you must by all means turn to it, that all the points of this very 
obscure, difficult, and yet curious and interesting case, may be 
properly considered, as they may be, if you wiU avail yourselves of 
his valuable labors. 

On the one side, as he very properly observes, it may be said, that 
the king, as we find from innumerable records, imposed tallages 
upon his demesne towns at discretion : but, on the other side, that 
no public instrument, previous to the 49th of Henry the Third, names 
the citizens and burgesses as constituent parts of Parliament, though 
prelates, barons, knights, and sometimes freeholders, are enumerated ; 
while, since the undoubted admission of the commons (the 49th 
of Henry the Third) , they are almost invariably mentioned : again, 
that no historian speaks of representatives, or uses the word citizen 
or burgess, in describing those who were present in Parliament, All 
this is very strong, and on the whole, as it appears to me, added to 
what you have heard from others, decisive of the question. 

Having thus alluded to the origin of our two diflferent houses of 
assembly, I will next advert to the origin and growth of the different 
prerogatives and privileges belongmg to each estate of the Lords and 
Commons. 

This subject will require and deserve your patience as students ; 
it is surely very curious. Great light has been thrown upon it by 
Professor Millar. De Lolme is too much of a panegyrist on our con- 
stitution, as indeed is Blackstone, — not to say that the latter is 
rather a lawyer than a constitutional writer. Blackstone is quite 
inferior to himself, when he becomes a political reasoner ; and if he 
had lived in our own times, he would not have written (he could not 
have written, a man of such capacity) in the vague and even super- 
ficial manner in which he has certainly done, on many of such occa- 
sions, in his great work of the Commentaries. Millar is the author 
you must study, and I will now endeavour to give you some notion 
of the more important results of his researches, — that is, I will en- 
deavour to give you some idea of the sort of reasoning and informar 
tion which you will find in his book. 

The Witenagemote, under the influence of the Conquest, became, 



ENGLAND. 109 

in the first place, more and more aristocratical ; in the second, its 
regular meetings less and less freijuent, till they at last ceased, — an 
important event. 

1st. It became more and more aristocratical, because the smaller 
landed proprietors, in the progress of the feudal system, attached them- 
selves to the greater lords, and thus gradually excluded themselves 
from the Witenagemote, -where those only could meet and dehberate 
who were considered as equals. Another reason contributed to the 
same effect. There were many lords who, though they did not attach 
themselves to a superior lord, and merge their consequence in his, 
had still an " allodial property," though less extensive, and though 
inferior. Such lords were less and less disposed to appear in the 
Great Council, because they were more and more likely to be over- 
shadowed by the greater barons, and to find themselves and their 
ophiions disregarded. This difference in wealth was at length followed 
by difference in dignity, and a man might be noble, yet not one of 
the proceres, — not one, for example, unless he had forty hides of 
land. The nobihty were thus divided into the greater and lesser 
thanes, a distinction that you must remember. 

2dly. The regvdar meetings of the AVitenagemote at last ceased. 
An important point, it may be observed ; for wduit was the result ? 
We might have lost our legal assembhes, as Fr-ance did. 

These regular meetings of the Witenagemote were originally held 
at Christmas, Easter, and Whitsuntide. But, besides these, there 
were also occasional meetings on extraordinary emergencies, sum- 
moned by the king himself. These last became more frequent with 
the increase of the national business ; and the regular meetings were 
of less consequence and less regarded, — the more so, as part of their 
business had originally consisted in hearing appeals from inferior 
courts. These appeals had multiplied till it was necessary to form a 
separate court from out of the Great Council, called the Aula Regis, 
for the sole purpose of deciding lawsuits. In tliis manner a material 
office of the Great Council was superseded ; though, as the Aula 
Regis originally acted as a sort of deputy, an appeal still remained 
in the last instance to the Council, which is now retained by the 
House of Peers. It must also have been at all times the policy of 
the monarch to supersede the regular meetings of the Great Council 
by auxihary courts, and by those meetings Avliich were summoned by 
himself. And in this manner, partly from reasons of apparent neces- 
sity and convenience, partly by the natural ambition of the monarch, 
partly from the disorders of the times, and not a httle from the su- 
pineness, ignorance, and want of concert among the barons them- 
selves, the Great Council ceased to assemble at its stated periods ; 
and its extraordinary meetings, with this appeal from the great court 
of law, were all that remained, as vestiges of its former power. 

But these extraordinary meetings could not take place unless called 

J 



110 LECTURE VI. 

by the sovereign. It was possible, therefore, that these meetings 
might at length cease, and with them the political existence of the 
Great Council altogether. If this event had taken place, the consti- 
tution of England would, in the result, have been the same with that 
of France. 

This was, however, most fortunately, not the case. But why not? 
It was thus : — William had introduced the feudal system, and those 
who held immediately of the crown became, in consequence, members 
of the great national council. Now the labors of our antiquarians 
have informed us, from an examination of " Domesday Book," that 
these immediate vassals scarcely exceeded the number of six hun- 
dred ; and as they, therefore, held the territory of all England, -with 
the exception of the three northern counties of the king's own do- 
mains, each baron must have been very powerful ; and it is evident 
that the king must have found it always expedient to avoid their dis- 
pleasure and to secure their assistance, and therefore to have re- 
course to them for their advice, or rather, for their public concur- 
rence, in the great measures of his government. These national 
councils were, therefore, very fortunately for posterity, never with- 
out their use or importance to the Norman kings ; they, therefore, 
often called these extraordinary meetings. 

But again, to the more frequent return of these occasional meet- 
ings, and consequently to the existence of the national council, there 
was another circumstance very favorable. The cro^vn was not trans- 
mitted, as in France, for many centuries, from son to son. Most of 
the Norman kings were usurpers, — William the Second, Henry the 
First, Stephen. Even Henry the Second obtained possession of the 
crown only after a compromise. John was, again, a usurper ; and 
even in the time of Henry the Second, of Richard the First, and 
Henry the Third, the Great Councils were continually appealed to, 
from the circumstances in which these monarchs were placed. In 
this manner, most happily for England, and indeed for mankind, the 
assembly of the nation still made, though not its regular, yet its occa- 
sional appearance, and with sufficient frequency to maintain its place 
in the legislature. 

Again, it is known that the Witenagemote had originally consisted 
of allodial or independent proprietors ; that not only had these grad- 
ually diminished, but it was the policy of the Conqueror to extinguish 
all the allodial tenures, and to render all the proprietors of land vas- 
sals of the crown ; that this in the twentieth year of his reign he at 
last effected ; and that the Great Council was thus entirely altered, 
and came to consist of those only who held immediately from the 
crown. Our antiquarians have also furnished sufficient evidence to 
show that Great Councils were held by William the Conqueror, Wil- 
liam Rufus, and the succeeding monarchs ; so that, on the whole, it 
may be allowed, that the interests of the crown so operated, that, in 



ENGLAND. Ill 

point of fact, the national assemblies did maintain their existence, 
and did occasionally meet. 

And here the student must again observe how nice are the issues 
on which the political privileges of a nation are to depend. We 
have here a great difficulty. For observe, it certainly would not 
have been for the good of the whole that the Great Councils should 
assemble whenever they themselves chose ; nor even, perhaps, of 
right at stated times, as they had done before the Conquest. It 
might be desirable, even, that the sovereign alone should have the 
power of calling tliem together ; but if this power was to be exercised 
merely at the pleasure of the monarch, and if he was not, in some 
way or other, to be laid under the necessity of occasionally meeting 
the national assemblies, arbitrary power must have been the conse- 
quence. And yet a principle so delicate as this was to be left to the 
arbitration of the rude warfare and undiscerning passions of our an- 
cestors. 

There were other points, not less delicate and important, that were 
now adjusted apparently with little foresight or anxiety about the con- 
sequences. I shall mention them, as I mentioned the last, from my 
wish to offer you specimens of the subject now before you, and with a 
hope of attracting your curiosity. 

The Witenagemote, from its origin and nature, had always decided 
on peace and war ; but the moment the members of it became vassals 
of the croMTi, their military ser\-ice became due to their lord when- 
ever required, and the justice or wisdom of the contest was no longer 
any part of their concern. The important prerogative of declaring 
peace or war Avas thus at once transferred to the crowTi : mth the 
crown it has ever since remained ; not that circumstances are the 
same, — not that any national council has ever deliberated upon the 
subject ; such deliberations upon such points are impossible ; but be- 
cause a prerogative like this, once enjoyed, was too important to be 
willingly resigned, and could not forcibly be taken away. ^Vliether 
expedient or not, it has, therefore, been transmitted as an inlierit- 
ance of the crown ; and any restraint or control it is to meet with 
must arise from causes that have grown up into importance as imper- 
ceptibly as did the prerogative itself. So fortunate may every peo- 
ple justly esteem themselves, who are possessed of a form of govern- 
ment which is in practice tolerably good ; for the affairs of mankind 
have but little to do with the precision of theory or the inferences of 
reasoning. 

Taxation, in like manner, was a most important prerogative of the 
Witenagemote. Fortunately for posterity, it was not lost. For, in 
the first place, the crown had immense domains and a large revenue 
of its own, and therefore did not find it entirely necessary to attempt 
the usurpation of the power of taxation. And secondly, the injury 
which the barons sustained by paying money could be understood by 



112 LECTURE VI. 

them without any great pohtical foresight or comprehension of the 
general principles of government. The obtaining of money from 
the subject was, at that time, very fortunately for us, an exercise of 
occasional oppression and force, rather than a regular operation of 
legislative authority. Finally, upon extraordinary occasions, the 
king really did apply to his subjects, to his vassals, for an aid, which 
was a condition of their feudal tenure. In lieu of military service, 
he received a pecuniary composition called a scutage ; from the soc- 
age vassals, a payment called a Mdage, in place of various services 
which, as agricultural tenants, they were bound to render him; from 
the inhabitants of towns, tolls, and duties, or tallages, in return 
for his protection ; and from traders, certain duties, called customs, 
on the transit of goods. In this manner was the cro^vn placed in a 
state of comparative opulence and independence, during the earlier 
eras of our constitution. As these sources of revenue declined, the 
other branches of the legislature were advancing into strength. 
They were thus able, by a continued struggle, to prevent these priv- 
ileges from being converted into fixed oppression, and to maintain 
the right, which it was so desirable they should alone exercise, of 
concurring with the crown before the community could be legally 
taxed. 

It were endless, at least it is not very possible in lectures like 
these, to pursue the subject of the formation of our legislature 
through all its parts, or to describe the origin of different constitu- 
tional privileges and prerogatives. You may judge of the interest 
belonging to these discussions, I hope, from what I have already 
said. I had, indeed, put down other specimens of the subject, but 
I am obliged, for want of time, to omit them. My observations re- 
ferred to what I thought the important points, and which I must 
now finally recommend to your attention : for instance, the addition 
that was made to the national assembly by the representatives of the 
boroughs ; the separation of the whole into two houses, — a most 
important point ; how the lesser barons, the knights of the shire, 
originally belonging to the upper, fell into the lower house ; how the 
House of Commons probably thus maintained its consequence, if not 
its existence ; how the House of Commons obtained a paramount and 
almost exclusive influence over the taxation of the country. None 
of these happy events took place in the constitution of France, or 
other European governments. You will find them explained, often 
with great success, by Millar. But you must not forget the learned 
and very valuable woi*k of Mr. Hallam, who is not always satisfied 
with Millar, and should have stated his objections more in the detail 
to a writer so respectable and so popular. Nor, again, must you 
omit to study the pages of Sir James Mackintosh's History. This 
lecture, and all the lectures of my first two courses, were drawn up 
many years before the appearance of either of these important pub- 
lications. 



ENGLAND. 113 

I must now pass on to the tliird part, wliicli I have announced to 
you as one even of more importance than the former two. The 
first, you will rememher, was. What are the laws ? the second, Who 
are the legislators ? But the third, to wliich I now allude, is, The 
spirit and habits of thinking that exist in the country. 

Of our country, if it be said that none has ever enjoyed a better 
constitution, it may at the same time be said that none has ever 
been more honorably distinguished by efforts to obtain it. In con- 
sidering the events of the earlier periods of our history, the student 
should never lose sight of the feudal system and the Papal power. 
These, in the instance of our own country, as in the rest of Europe, 
soon became the great impediments to the improvement of human 
happiness. 

But there was a peculiarity in the case of England, which was 
attended with important consequences. The feudal system had not 
proceeded by its own natural gradations ; it had not been regularly 
introduced, but it had been established by the Conqueror violently, 
and on a sudden, in its last stage of oppression. 

In an earlier and milder state, it seems to have existed in its prin- 
ciples, if not in its name and ceremonies, among the Anglo-Saxons ; 
bat it did not in this island attain its final maturity by regular 
growth, as it had done in the rest of Europe. And this acceleration 
of the system, that seemed, at first, to be more than usually fatal to 
every hope of Hberty, was in the event much otherwise. 

The Saxon constitution was broken in upon when in a state of 
great comparative freedom. It was necessarily regretted by all to 
Avhom it had ever been known, its practices were in part retained, 
its praises transmitted, its memory cherished ; and it became at 
length dear even to the Normans, Avho began to consider themselves 
as belonging to the island, and who were oppressed by the rigors 
of the system which their own king and countrjToen had estab- 
hshed. 

Now it is to that spirit and those habits of thinking that were 
thus inherited from the Anglo-Saxon government and introduced 
into the character of the Norman conquerors, that we are so much 
indebted, when we speak of the superiority of our constitution and 
the merits of our ancestors. Our history shows a continued strug- 
gle between the crown and the barons, but at the same time it con- 
stantly speaks of the unwearied clamors of the nation, — first for 
the laws of Edward the Confessor, and afterwards for the charters 
that were obtained from our unwilling monarchs. 

It is to these clamors for the laws of Edward the Confessor, it is 
to these charters thus bargained for, or extorted, that I would wish 
to direct your attention. It is here you are to find the proper object 
of your admiration, — the free principles of your mixed constitution, 
the original source of that free spirit which distmguishcs your own 
15 J* 



114 LECTURE VI. 

English character. For observe, — to take a familiar instance, — 
when a rich man walks our streets or villages, he will not offend a 
poor man, however poor, if he has the feelings of an Englishman 
within him ; in like manner, if a poor man be struck or insulted, he 
will immediately tell his oppressor, that, though poor, he is an Eng- 
lishman, and will not be trampled upon. Now these are most honor- 
able and totally invaluable traits of national character, not to be 
found m other countries in Europe : in spite of our immense system 
of taxation and other unfortunate circumstances, they still to a con- 
siderable degree exist. The problem I propose to you is to give an 
historical and philosophical explanation of them. 

In the first place, then, and to look up to the highest point of 
their origin, they were derived from our Saxon ancestors, and after- 
wards from our Norman ancestors ; and therefore at present I would 
wish to attract your curiosity to the two subjects I have just men- 
tioned, — the Laws of Edward the Confessor, and the Charters. 

But when we turn to look at the laws of Edward the Confessor, 
we meet with a most uncomfortable disappointment, — the laws are 
lost. All the notion that can now be formed of them must be de- 
rived, as it is supposed, from the maxims of the common law, such 
as it is received and transmitted from age to age by our courts and 
judges. Great pains were taken by the illustrious Selden to dis- 
cover these celebrated laAvs, but in vain. In the Note-book on the 
table you mil find a short account of his labors ; which, as a concise 
specimen of what the researches of an antiquarian, and even of a 
constitutional writer, must often be, I would recommend you to 
read. 

With respect to the charters, the second subject I mentioned, we 
have been more fortunate ; we may consider ourselves as in possession 
of them ; and they have been made accessible, not only to the learn- 
ing of an antiquarian, but to the knowledge of every man of ordinary 
education : this has been done by Blackstone. " There is no trans- 
action," says Blackstone, " in the ancient part of our English history 
more interesting and important than the rise and progress, the gradu- 
al mutation, and final estabhshment of the charters of liberties, em- 
phatically styled the ' Great Charter ' and ' Charter of the Forest ' ; 
and yet there is none that has been transmitted down to us with less 
accuracy and historical precision." The Vinerian Professor was 
therefore animated to undertake an authentic and correct edition of 
the Great Charter and Charter of the Forest, with some other aux- 
ihary charters, statutes, and corroborating instruments, carefuUy 
printed from the originals themselves, or from contemporary enrol- 
ments or records : the work he executed and delivered to the public. 

Of his "History of the Charters" it is in vain to attempt any 
abridgment ; for such is the precision of his taste, and such the im- 
portance of the subject, that there is not a sentence m the composi- 



ENGLAND. 115 

tion thcat is not necessary to the whole, and that should not be perused. 
Whatever other works may be read shghtly, or omitted, this is one 
the entire meditation of which can in no respect be dispensed with. 
The claims which it has on our attention are of no common nature. 

The labor which tliis eminent lawyer has bestowed on the subject 
is sufficiently evident. Yet, however distinguished for his high en- 
dowments and extensive acquirements, and however impressed with 
a sense of the advantages to be derived from a free government, he 
has certainly never been considered as a writer very particularly 
anxious for the popular part of the constitution, notwithstanding his 
occasional very crude declamations of a popular nature ; and, on the 
Avhole, these charters must have been very instrumental in saving 
our country from the establishment of arbitrary power, or they would 
never have excited in the Professor such extraordinary exertion and 
respect. 

In the second place, we may surely be expected to consider with 
some attention what our ancestors acquired with such difficulty and 
danger, and maintained mth such unshaken courage and persever- 
ance. These charters, says Blackstone, " from their first concession 
under King John, A. D. 1215, had been often endangered and 
undergone very many mutations for the space of near a century, but 
were now [in the 29th of Edward the Second *] fixed upon an eter- 
nal basis ; having, m all, befoi-e and since this time, as Sir Edward 
Coke observes, been established, confirmed, and commanded to be 
put in execution by two-and-thirty several acts of Parliament." 

There is a commentary on Magna Chavta at the close of Sullivan's 
Lectures on the Laws of England, which will be very serviceable to 
you in your perusal of this great record of our hberties. 

My comments on these charters, given in my former course, I now 
omit. For these charters must be read attentively by yourselves, and 
you will easily acquire a proper insight into the nature of their pro- 
visions. The result of your first perusal will be that of disappoint- 
ment ; you will think that they contain nothing very remarkable, 
nothing much connected vdth. civil liberty, as you now understand 
and enjoy it. This gives me another opportunity (I cannot avail 
myself too often of such opportunities) to remind you that you must 
always identify yourselves with those who appear before you, from 
time to time, in the pages of history ; — this is the first point ; — and 
that it is the general spirit and meaning of the whole of a constitu- 
tional transaction, not the minute detail of it, that you must always 
more particularly consider ; — this is the second point. 

To advert to these points a httle longer. — When we look into 
these charters for those provisions of civil liberty which the enlarged 
and enhghtened view of a modem statesman might suggest, Ave for- 

* A mistake for Edward the First ; Edward the Second reigned less than twenty 
years. See Blackstone's Ilistoiy of the Charters (Oxford, 1759), j). Ixxiv. — N. 



116 LECTURE VI. 

get that they who obtained these charters were feudal lords, strug- 
gling with their feudal sovereign ; and that more was, in fact, per- 
formed than could be reasonably expected ; at all events, thej had the 
obvious merit of resisting oppression, — a conduct that is always re- 
spectable, as it always indicates a sense of right and courage. 

The exertion of such qualities is of use generally to the existing 
generation, and still more to posterity. No such steadiness and 
spirit were shown by the barons of other countries ; and this of itself 
is a sufficient criterion of the merit of the English barons. The plain 
narrative of these transactions is, of itself, the best comment on their 
conduct, and its highest praise. That the barons should be jealous 
of their own powers and comforts, when they found them trenched 
upon by the monarch, may have been natural ; that they should as- 
sert their cause by an appeal to arms may have been the character 
of the age ; that they should resist and overpower such princes as 
Henry or John was, perhaps, what might have been expected. In 
all tliis there may possibly not be thought any very superior merit ; 
but there is still merit, and merit of a most valuable kind. To main- 
tain, however, a struggle systematically, and for many succeeding 
ages, was neither natural, nor the character of the age ; and to have 
encountered and overpowered the rage, the authority, and the ability 
of a prince like Edward the First, so fitted in every respect to dazzle 
and seduce, deceive and subdue them, — this constitutes a merit 
which in other countries had no parallel, and which leaves us no 
sentiment but that of gratitude, no criticism but that of applause. 

But, in addition to these general remarks, one more particular 
observation must be left with you, and it is this, — that, in the 
course of these charters, if they are properly examined, it will at 
length be seen, that all the leading objects of national concern were 
adverted to, that the outlines of a system of civil liberty were actually 
traced. Provision was made for the protection and independence of 
the Church ; the general privileges of trade were considered ; the 
general rights of property ; the civil liberties of the subject ; the ad- 
ministration of justice. 

It may, indeed, be remarked, that the provisions for general 
liberty in these charters were few, short, indistinct, and that it is im- 
possible to suppose that a few words like these could in any respect 
embrace all the multiplied relations of social life and regular govern- 
ment ; and that much more must be done before the liberties of man- 
kind can be secured, or even delineated or described with proper ac- 
curacy and effect. Where, then, it may again be urged, where is 
now the value of these celebrated charters ? To this it must be re- 
plied, that a rude sketch Avas made, according to the circumstances 
of the times, and that nothing more could be accomplished or ex- 
pected ; that a reasonable theory, that the right principle, was every- 
where produced and enforced, and that this was sufficient. Posterity 



ENGLAND. 117 

was left, no doubt, to imitate those who had gone before, by trans- 
fusing the general meaning of the whole into statutes, accommo- 
dated to the new exigencies that might arise. It was not necessary 
that they who were to follow should tread precisely in the same 
steps ; but they were to bear themselves erect, and walk after the 
same manner. The track might be altered, but the port and the 
march were to be the same. Such, indeed, was the event. In 
Hampden's cause of ship-money, and on every occasion, when the 
liberties of the subject were to be asserted, — in writing, in speeches, 
in Parliament, in the courts of law, — these charters were produced, 
examined, and illustrated ; and they supplied the defenders of our 
best interests at all times with the spirit and the materials of their 
virtuous eloquence. Civil liberty had got a creed which was to be 
learned and studied by its votaries ; a creed to Avhich the eyes of all 
were to be turned mth reverence ; which the subject considered as 
his birthright ; which the monarch received from his predecessors as 
the constitution of the land ; which the one thought it his duty to 
maintain, and wliich the other thought it no derogation to his dignity 
to acknowledge. 

" It must be confessed," says Hume, " that the former articles of 
the Great Charter contain such mitigations and explanations of the 
feudal law as are reasonable and equitable ; and that the latter in- 
volve all the chief outlines of a legal government, and provide for 
the equal distribution of justice, and free enjoyment of property, — 
the great objects for which political society was at first founded by 
men, which the people have a perpetual and unalienable right to 
recall, and wliich no time, nor precedent, nor statute, nor positive 
institution ought to deter them from keeping ever uppermost in their 
thoughts and attention." 

At the close of the subject, though he resumes his natural hesita- 
tion and circumspection, he seems considerably subdued by the merit 
of the actors in these memorable transactions. 

" Thus," says he, " after the contests of near a whole century, 
and those ever accompanied with violent jealousies, often Avith public 
convulsions, the Great Charter was finally established, and the Eng- 
hsh nation have the honor of extorting, by their perseverance, tliis 
concession from the ablest, the most warlike, and the most ambitious 
of all their princes Though arbitrary practices often pre- 
vailed, and were even able to establish themselves into settled cus- 
toms, the validity of the Great Charter was never afterwai'ds for- 
mally disputed ; and that grant was still regarded as the basis 
of English government, and the sure rule by wliich the authority of 
every custom was to be tried and canvassed. The jurisdiction of 
the Star-Chamber, martial law, imprisonment by warrants from the 
Privy Council, and other practices of a like nature, though estab- 
lished for several centuries, were scarcely ever allowed by the Eng- 



118 LECTURE VI. 

lisli to be parts of their constitution. The affection of the nation for 
liberty still prevailed over all precedent, and even all political rea- 
soning. The exercise of these powers, after being long the source 
of secret murmurs among the people, was in fulness of time sol- 
emnly abolished as illegal, at least as oppressive, by the whole legis- 
lative authority." 

These appear to me remarkable passages to be found in the His- 
tory of Hume, and I therefore offer them to your notice. 

You will find Ilallam very decisive in his opinion of the value of 
this Great Charter. He considers it as the most important event in 
our history, except the Revolution in 1688, without which its bene- 
fits would have been rapidly annihilated. 

Before I conclude, I must once more remind you, that it is the 
general spirit and habits of thinking in a community that are all in 
all ; that charters, and statutes, and judges, and courts of law, are 
all of no avail for perpetuating a constitution, or even for securing 
the regular administration of its blessings from time to time, — are 
all of no avail, if a vital principle does not animate the mass, and 
if there be not sufficient intelligence and spirit in the community to 
be anxious about its own happiness and dignity, its laws and govern- 
ment, and those provisions and forms in both which are favorable to 
its liberties. When this vital principle exists, every defect is sup- 
plied from time to time by those who bear rule, and who can never 
be long or materially at a loss to know what either Magna Charta or 
the free maxims of our constitution require from them. However 
complicated may be the business, however new the situations for 
which they have to pro\ide, the outline of a free constitution, though 
rude and imperfect, can easily be filled up by those who labor in the 
spirit of the original masters. 

Wlien this is honorably done, and when the spirit and vital princi- 
ple of a constitution are faithfully preserved, those who rule and 
those who are governed may and do sympathize with each other. 
They are no longer drawn out and divided into ranks of hostility, 
open or concealed ; there is no storm above ground, no hollow mur- 
muring below. The public good becomes a principle, acknowledged 
by the monarch as his rule of government ; and loyalty is properly 
cherished by the subject, as one of the indispensable securities of his 
own political happiness. Men are taught to respect each other, and 
to respect themselves. The lowest man in society is furnished with 
his own appropriate sentiment of honor, which in him, as in his 
superiors, is to protect and animate his sense of duty ; he, too, like 
those above him, has his degradations of character to which he will 
not stoop, and his elevations of virtue to which he must aspire. 
This is that real protection to a state, that source of all national 
prosperity, that great indispensable auxiliary to the virtue and even 
the rehgion of a country, which may well be considered as the 



FRANCE. 119 

mark of every good government, for it constitutes the perfection of 
the best. 

But all this must be the work, not of those who are placed low in 
the gradations of the social order, but of those who are destined, by 
whatever advantages of property, rank, and particularly of liigh 
office, to have authority over their fellow-creatures ; of such men, 
men like yourselves, it is the bounden duty to cherish the constitu- 
tional spirit of their country, and, in one word, to promote and pro- 
tect the respectabihty of the poor man. When those who are so 
elevated use to such purposes the influence and the command which 
do and ought to belong to them, they employ themselves in a man- 
ner the most grateful to their feelings, if they are men of benevo- 
lence and virtue, — the most creditable to their talents, if they are 
men of genius and understanding. 



LECTURE VII. 



FRANCE. 



We must now turn to the French history. The period which we 
mav consider is that which intervened between the accession of 
Philip of Valois and the death of Louis the Eleventh. This period 
I would wish particularly to recommend to your examination, for it 
is the most important in the constitutional history of France. 

I have already endeavoured to draw your attention to this gi'eat 
subject, — the constitutional history of France. There are few that 
can be thought of more consequence in the annals of modern Eu- 
rope. Had France acquired a good form of government while the 
feudal system was falling into decay, the character of the French 
nation would have been very different from what, in the result, it 
afterwards became. All the nations on the continent would have 
been materially influenced in their views and opinions by such an ex- 
ample. The whole history of France and of those countries would 
have been changed, and the private and public happiness of the 
woi'ld would have been essentially improved. 

The first and great subject of inquiry, therefore, in the French 
history, is this, — What were the circumstances that more particu- 
larly affected the civil liberties of France ? 

It is quite necessary to remark, that this subject is never properly 
treated by the French historians. They never seem to feel its im- 



120 LECTURE VII. 

portance, to understand its nature. When thej advert to tlie state 
of France, when thej endeavour to consider how the country is to 
be improved, how advanced to perfection, they content themselves, 
as their orators seem to have done in the States-General, with vague 
declamations about order and virtue, and the discharge of the duties 
of life ; a love of liis people must, they think, be found in the sover- 
eign, purity of morals in his subjects. These are the topics on 
which they harangue. Every political good, they suppose, is to re- 
sult from the private and individual merits of the monarch and those 
whom he is to govern. They look no further. It seems never to 
have occurred to them, that the virtues Avhich they wish for, both in 
the prince and the subject, are generated by a free government, and 
that it is in vain to expect them under any other. 

From this general observation on the French wi-iters one illus- 
trious exception must be made, — the Abbe de Mably. His work: 
must, therefore, be continually compared with the representations of 
the historians Velly, Mezeray, and Le Pere Daniel. It is in his 
work, and in his alone, that the philosophy of the French history 
can be found. Without it an English student would pass through 
the whole detail, continually misled by his guides, or suffered to 
move on without once finding his attention properly directed to the 
great misfortune of France, — the misfortune of her political sys- 
tem, — the dechne and the destruction of her constitutional liberties. 

This subject has not been overlooked by our own great historian, 
Robertson. In his introduction to his History of Charles the Fifth, 
he describes, in a concise and unaffected manner, the means by 
which the prerogative and the power of the crown were extended, 
and the alteration that took place in the constitution and government 
so unfavorable to the general liberty of the subject ; the fatal man- 
ner in which the ancient national assemblies lost their legislative 
power, and in which the monarch gradually assumed it, and still 
more fatally assumed the power of levying taxes. There are three 
notes (38, 39, 40) particularly worth reading, m his preface to 
Charles the Fifth. 

With respect to the constitution of France, the great point in that 
constitution was, as it has been in all the European constitutions, 
simply this, — whether the national assemblies could maintain their 
importance, and, above all, preserve their right of taxation. On 
this right of taxation every thing depended. 

To the general principles of liberty a nation is easily made blind, 
or can even become indifferent. Such principles are never under- 
stood by the multitude ; and the interest they excite is of a nature 
too refined and generous to animate the mass of mankind either long 
or deeply. But, fortunately for them, they who trample upon their 
rights generally (as it would be expressed by the people themselves) 
want their money ; and here, at least, is found a coarser string, which 



FRANCE. 121 

can always vibrate strongly and steadily. The tax-gatherer can, at 
all events, be discovered by the people to be an enemy, as they sup- 
pose, to their happiness. Popular insurrections have seldom had any 
other origin ; and the unfeeling luxury of the great is thus sometimes 
most severely punished by the headlong and brutal fury of the multi- 
tude. Patriots and legislators are, therefore, the most successfully 
employed, when they are fighting the ignorant selfishness of the low 
against the vicious selfishness of the high, — when they are exchang- 
ing tax for privilege, and purchasing what is, in fact, the happiness 
of both, by converting the mean passions of each to the purposes of 
a generous and enlightened prudence. But to do this, it is necessary 
that some body of men who can sympathize with the people should 
have a political existence, and that their assent should be necessary 
to make taxation legal. Of peaceful, regular, constitutional free- 
dom, which is the only freedom, this is the best and the only pi-actical 
safeguard. 

You must now recall to your minds what I have already said of the 
French history, — that the great writers are too voluminous, and that 
you must, therefore, meditate the incidents that appear in the abridg- 
ments of Henault and jNIillot, or the concise history of D'Anquetil ; 
and, when they seem likely to be of importance, consult, if you jilease, 
the great historians. 

An instance of this kind occurs early in the period we are now 
considering. You will see in the abridgments that the States-General 
assemble ; an important circumstance always. Y^ou will turn to 
Mably, and you will find that a very remarkable struggle, as he con- 
ceives, took place between the crown and the people ; and joii might 
here, therefore, turn to Velly and the regular historians. The fact 
seems to be, that a great crisis in the French constitution did really 
take place during the reigns of the earlier princes of the house of 
Valois, particularly of John, when the country was opfiressed by the 
successful and unjust inroads of our Edward the Third. The States- 
General were called ; and the opportunity was taken by the third 
estate, and more particularly by Marcel, the Parisian, and his asso- 
ciates, to raise the public into importance, and to balance, or, as the 
French historians represent it, to overpower, the authority of the 
prince. 

Here, then, is evidently a period that cannot be too deeply medi- 
tated. The historian Villaret, the successor of Velly, seems to have 
taken due pains with this part of his undertaking. Le Pere Daniel 
appears, unfortunately, to have no just apprehension of its impor- 
tance, and, indeed, not to be animated by any principles of legislation 
and government sufficiently favorable to the rights of the people. 
The political sentiments of Mezeray are more accurate ; but he is too 
concise in his narrative, and too sparing of his observations. These 
are the great historians. But the Abbe de ^Nlably is well aware how 
16 K 



122 LECTURE VII. 

important to the liberties of France was tlie conduct of the States- 
General on this occasion ; and he states, explains, and criticizes their 
views and their feehngs apparently with great penetration and pro- 
priety. The student will contrast these writers with each other, and 
form his own estimate of these memorable transactions. 

The narrative in Velly or Yillaret opens with a history of the 
States-General, to which there seems nothing to object. But the 
moment the historian arrives at the particular point we are consider- 
ing, his inadequacy to the subject appears. He speaks of the tliird 
estate as having gradually learned to discuss the rights and encroach 
on the limits of the royal authority ; and their eflForts to improve the 
constitution by managing the taxation, and by bargaining for the 
reformation of various abuses, he calls the first essay of a poivei' 
usurped. He observes that many writers have seen a parallel be- 
tween these transactions and those of the English at Runnymede ; 
and he therefore very properly gives an estimate of all those proceed- 
ings in our own country. When this estimate is considered, the 
parallel is, no doubt, most striking and complete ; the requisitions of 
the States and the concessions of each party seem all of the same 
nature as those between our own King John and his barons. 

I must now mention, that, in the first course of lectures which I 
delivered, I went through many particidars of tliis remarkable strug- 
gle, drawing my narrative from Velly and the Abbe de Mably ; but 
I begin to doubt whether I may not hope to employ your time better. 
I am not sure that I then made, or that any effort of mine could 
possibly make, a detail of this kind sufficiently intelligible ; all that 
I believe you would carry away from the lecture, if I were to repeat 
it, would be a general impression that there was in tliis part of the 
French history a constitutional struggle worth your attention, and 
that you must consider it for yourselves in the Abbe de INIably. This 
would be the right impression, no doubt ; but I may, perhaps, pro- 
duce this impression sufficiently by simply assuring you, without any 
further occupation of your time, that this is the case, and that you 
must meditate this period well. Do not regard the slight maimer in 
which you may see it mentioned in French authors. You can easily 
conceive what an event it Avould have been to Europe and mankind, 
if the French nation had, like our own, obtained a free government ; 
and from what you have yourselves heard and remember of the affairs 
of the world, for these last five-and-twenty years, this subject of the 
free constitution of France will only derive a new and more effective 
interest. 

The contest in the reign of King John of France has distmct 
stages, in some of Avhich it resembles the struggle between our own 
King John and the barons ; in others, the struggle between Charles 
the First and his Parliament ; and at length it assumes an appearance 
precisely the same which it did in the frightful and disgraceful periods 



FRANCE. 123 

of the late French revolution, — every thing at the disposal of the 
multitude, and even the outrages carried on in a manner very 
similar, — the Dauphin's officers murdered in his presence, and the 
party-colored cap placed upon his head, as was, in a similar irruption 
into the palace, the bonnet rouge on the head of the late most amiable 
and most unfortunate monarch, Louis the Sixteenth. The result was 
but too certain : either the erection of some military despotism, or 
the restoration of their ancient government, returning with all its 
abuses, and more than ever confirmed in its faults and errors. 
Either event would necessarily have been destructive of all rational 
liberty. The latter took place. And here may be said to have 
ended all the more regular, and therefore more hopeful, efforts for 
the constitution of France. 

The great mistake seems to me to have been, that charters were 
not continually obtained, — one was obtained, — but I mean con- 
tinually obtained or renewed from time to time, as was done in Eng- 
land. It is impossible that a constitution should be established, or 
even very thoroughly improved, at once^ by the laws or provisions of 
any one body of men ; and the proN'isions that Avere made for this 
purpose by our own ancestors at Runn^nnede seem to have been for 
a long time but too ineffectual. But a charter often renewed or im- 
proved may long remain and always be remembered, and in this 
manner teach those who succeed the duties that have been performed 
by those who went before them, till freedom becomes at last inter- 
woven with the general habits of thinking in a community, and may 
then be converted into the effective law of the land. 

We cannot now, as I have just observed, trace all the causes of 
this calamitous alteration in the prospects of France. The kingdom 
was most dreadfully situated : in a state of hostiUty with a \actorious 
enemy ; troops of soldiers, who acknowledged no law and no country, 
pillaging what the ravages of war had not entirely swept away ; and 
soon after, the horrible insurrection of the Jacqvierie, described by 
Froissart, the peasants against the nobles ; all uniting to complete a 
combination of horrors wliich no civilized country ever before or since 
exhibited. 

That the deputies from distant parts should, in circumstances like 
these, be unwilling or unable to meet in the capital, — that the 
moderate and the good should no longer be disposed to projects of 
reform, should easily fall away from their more ardent associates, 
should even be wanting in their duties as patriots and as men, should 
no longer prosecute the tasks of hope amid these scenes of despair, — 
all this can surely be surprising to no one. Nor can we wonder, in 
a country thus situated, at the failure of any generous experiment for 
its liberties, when such experiments, it is but too evident, must 
always depend for their success, not only on the merit of those who 
engage in them, but on something of good fortune in the conjuncture 
of circumstances in which they are attempted. 



124 LECTURE VII. 

It is impossible, therefore, to read tins particular portion of the 
French history without sensations of the most painful kind. How- 
ever imperfect might be the character of Marcel and his associates, 
some great eifort was on this occasion evidently made for the demo- 
cratic part of the constitution of France. It failed ; and as we read 
the history, we are left with an impression on our minds, that the 
French sovereigns will, from this time, endeavour to carry on the 
administration of the government without the assistance of any repre- 
sentative assemblies, that is, without any control or check on their 
own power, — or, in other words, that the people are henceforward 
to be oppressed, and the sovereign to be, by his very situation, cor- 
rupted : a state of things disgraceful to both, and even dangerous ; 
dangerous, because, whenever any system of policy is arranged in any 
manner directly opposed to the reason and feelings of mankind, it can 
never be in a state of safety. Nothing is really secure that is not in 
harmony with the great and established moral feehngs of the human 
heart. The shghtest accident may give occasion to the most \iolent 
efforts for its overthrow ; and such efforts are likely to be attended 
with the destruction of, at least, all those who were too exclusively 
benefited by a disposition of things in itself unnatural and unjust. 

Considerations, indeed, of this remote and contingent nature, I 
grieve to say, are little hkely to influence the rulers of mankind, or 
the higher orders. General principles hke these may slumber (if I 
may be allowed the expression) for centuries, and then be roused into 
action in an instant. Mankind, on these occasions, stand astonished 
at what has been long foreseen to be very possible, by every intelli- 
gent reasoner ; just as they stand amazed at the first eruption of a 
volcano, which the philosopher has, from physical appearances, 
always predicted, in vain protesting against the erection of palaces 
and villas in situations where they are every moment exposed to be 
buried in ashes or annihilated by lava. 

In this manner, in France, the great national bodies which had ex- 
isted under Charlemagne, the assembhes of the fields of March and 
May, were succeeded by no adequate representation of the force of 
the commvinity ; and the States-General that were convened by 
Philip le Bel and the house of Valois were but imperfect and fading 
images of their greatness. 

In England, on the contrary, the national assemblies never lost 
their importance ; the Witenagemotes were succeeded by Parlia- 
ments, these by assemblies of the Lords and Commons in two distinct 
houses, and the civil liberties of the community were thus, and thus 
only, saved from destruction. 

The States-General of France had been, as we have already inti- 
mated, resisted, overcome, and, in fact, disposed of by John and the 
Dauphin. Tlie latter mounted the throne with the title of Charles 
the Fifth. In consequence of the late contest, every thing was sub- 



FRANCE. 125 

mitted to his will. But what was the result ? What use did he 
make of his power ? Did it occur to him, that he ought to be a 
patriot as well as a king ; that he should endeavour, not to extin- 
guish, but rather to modify, the power of the States-General ; that 
he should endeavour to establish, by a proper mixture of royal and 
popular authority, tlie glory of his own name and the happiness of 
his sulijects ; that he should labor to elevate them from the state of 
ignorance and ferocity in which they were evidently sunk ; that he 
should allow them, if not to exercise power themselves, to delegate 
their power to others ; that he should teach them the feelings of hu- 
manity, by admitting them to the exercise of the rights of it ? Did 
considerations of this reasonable nature occur to him ? Was it in 
this manner that this renowned politician was employed, from his first 
accession to power ? Far otherwise. His wisdom was exclusively 
exerted in confirming and extending the prerogative of the crown, in 
laboring to destroy the authority of the States, and in deceiving his 
subjects into that most fatal of all political delusions, that " whate'er 
is best administered is best" ; in persuading them, in contriving that 
they should persuade themselves, that as he had foiled and over- 
powered the English by the prudence of his military operations, as 
he had swept away from the country the banditti by which it was pil- 
laged, as there was no point which he seemed to carry by cruelty or 
by force, that therefore, in this happier state of things, it was he, the 
king, who was assuredly the father of liis country ; and that it was 
of no consequence Avhat became of the States-General, the right of 
taxation, the principles of the constitution, or any other right or 
principle whatever, while Marcel and his Parisian mob were not de- 
stroying the public peace, nor the English, the peasants, or the 
banditti, the public prosperity, — while, in short, all the effects of the 
happiest form of government and the most legitimate authority were 
produced by the easier exercise of his individual wisdom and experi- 
ence, benevolence and justice. 

Let no nation presume to blame the French for submitting to con- 
siderations or acquiescing in reasonings like these. No nation has 
ever risen superior to delusions so natural and soothing. It is scarcely 
necessary to say that Charles succeeded in all the objects of his ad- 
muiistration ; and he and his courtiers contemplated, no doubt, with 
the most sincere complacency and applause, the dexterity with which 
he Avielded the minds of men to his purposes, and the gradual decay 
of all those forms and principles in their government which were 
likely to be oflfensive or troublesome (as they would have called it) 
to the influence and authoi'ity of the wearer of the crown. 

Was it, however, virtuous, was it, after all, wise, in the king and 
his courtiers, thus to deceive their country and destroy its constitu- 
tion ? The history of the succeeding reign is no testimony in their 
favor. And as Charles the Wise (for such he was denominated), — 

K* 



126 LECTURE VII. 

as diaries tlie "Wise approached that melancholy period of decay and 
death, when worldly wisdom is but too apt to appear mistaken folly, 
the pohtician discovered that his son was a minor, that the princes 
of the blood were dismiited and ambitious, that the general prosperity 
of the nation and of his royal house had been left to depend totally 
on his own personal management and prudence, and that, therefore, 
every interest that was dear to him, as a father or a king, would, in 
the event, be thro-wn into a situation of perplexity and danger, from 
the moment that he himself expired. 

With what sentiments are we to see him summoning his brothers 
around him, portioning out his authority among them, lal^oring to 
provide for the welfare of his child and his kingdom, by the vain ex- 
pedient of promises and oaths ? He had no States-General, no 
legislative assemblies, whom he had familiarized to their own par- 
ticular duties, whom he had allowed to exercise along with liimself 
the administration of the public happiness, whom he had taught to see 
in the royal authority the best security and protection of their own, — 
he had no guardians like these to whom he could intrust his son, or 
the helpless, hopeless expedients of oaths and promises had been un- 
necessary. 

" Charles," says the historian Villaret, " charged his brothers to 
abolish the impositions he had laid on his subjects, and signed an 
order for the purpose the very day that he died ; occupied," continues 
this writer, " with the happiness of the state and the relief of his peo- 
ple even when he was himself on the confines of the tomb ! " A 
base or shallow panegyric, this, in the historian, which would have 
been better deserved, if the monarch had not robbed that people of 
their right to tax themselves by discontinuing and destroying their 
national assemblies. 

But on what principle was it that Charles thus remitted his taxes 
when sinking into the grave ? Was he conscious, when too late, of 
the injury he had done his comitry by imposing them on his OAvn au- 
thority ? Did he wish in this manner to attach the people to his 
child ? On either supposition, what a lesson to those who favor the 
maxims of arbitrary power ! 

The genius of Charles had been devoted to the establishment of 
the power of the crown ; and the nation who called him tvise, and the 
prince to whom he was a father, were soon to reap the effects of 
what was esteemed his policy, in seeing their country without order 
and without law, destroyed by the factions of the royal family, and 
subdued by a foreign invader. 

The next reign in the history, the reign of Charles the Sixth, is 
ushered in by Villaret with the deepest lamentations over the miseries 
he is going to relate. The king, yet a minor, abandoned, he says, 
the reins of government to the princes of the blood by turns, — 
princes whom ambition, he says, and no love to their country, im- 



FRANCE. 127 

pellecl to undertake the admimstration of government. From whom, 
it may be asked, were they to have learned this love of their coun- 
try ? From the deceased monarch ? He had taught no lessons but 
those of arbitrary power. From the free constitution of their coun- 
try ? It had been corrupted till it was unfit for the production of 
patriots. — " The furious people," says the historian, "were eager 
for their own destruction, and as little under the control of reason as 
their unhappy monarch." What efforts, it may be observed, had 
ever been made to render them otherwise? — "The corruption," 
says the historian, " was deep and general." It is ever thus, it may 
be answered, in an arbitrary government ; and a frightful spectacle 
is always presented, whenever, by any accident or calamity, the veil 
is withdrawn. — " One step more," he adds, " and France had been 
lost, or, what is the same thing, had become the province of our 
eternal rivals." And so might every kingdom, constituted as France 
then was. There is no real security against an invading enemy but 
a government which, by its equitable laws and popular forms, has 
been incorporated with the habits and opinions and affections of the 
people. 

The earUer part of this reign, the reign of Charles the Sixth, 
the king who was affhcted with temporary fits of insanity, is interest- 
ing, like that of his renowned father, and for a similar reason, a 
renewal of the contest between the crown and the people. The 
student should again compare the narrative of Villaret with the 
philosophic estimate of Mably. The f\icts are in both the same, 
yet it is curious to observe how different are the conclusions which 
we are taught to draw from them by these two different writers. 
The one conceives, and justly conceives, that the constitution of a 
great kingdom is seen in these transactions to pass through its 
changes of trial and settlement ; the other finds in them little but 
the insurrections of a licentious metropolis, encountered and sub- 
dued by its lawful, though rapacious, rulers. 

I have already intimated to you the inference that is to he drawn 
from all the past transactions between the crown and the people of 
France. The same is the inference from all that you are to ap- 
proach : the difference between cunning and wisdom, between paltry 
policy and liberal prudence, between mean, jealous, contracted, 
tricking sagacity, and a pure, enlarged, enlightened benevolence, — 
tlie difference between these, and the superiority of the latter to the 
former, even upon the principles of mere selfish policy, and though 
the calls of humanity and duty had no claim to be heard. 

Observe the conduct and views of all the different actors in the 
scene, at the period that is now coming before us. 

The royal counsellors, the princes of the blood, instead of con- 
forming to the will of the late monarch, and abolishing the imposi- 
tions, and then summoning the States-General, in order to obtain 



128 LECTURE VII. 

a constitutional supply, omitted every measure of this salutary 
nature, and then found themselves reminded of their duty, and com- 
pelled to the performance of it, by the cries and insurrections of the 
people. 

The States-General, in their turn, when assembled, instead of 
granting liberally, and teaching the crown the real policy of apply- 
ing to them, — instead of taking, at all events, the opportunity of 
making some efforts to regain their place in the constitution, appear 
to have been totally unconscious of their situation, and neither by 
their kindness to the crown, nor by any spirit of enterprise for the 
people, to have made the shghtest attempt to approve themselves 
worthy of their trust. 

Again, the States were no sooner separated, than the Duke of 
Anjou once more renewed his attempt to establish arbitrary imposi- 
tions, that is, once more exposed himself and his royal house to the 
chances of tumult and insurrection. Pie was in consequence obliged 
again to summon the States-General. 

Now what was the conduct of the bailliages that were to return 
their deputies to this assembly ? Some of them sent no deputies at 
all, supposing that they should have no taxes to pay, inasmuch as 
they had not consented to any ; the rest declared, that, after having 
consulted with their constituents, they were not authorized to con- 
sent to any, and were, on the contrary, ordered to announce that 
they would rather try the hazard of every extremity. In other 
words, the people of France could not see that the only way to be 
permanently secure from unreasonable taxation was to tax them- 
selves through the medium of their representative assembhes. They 
could not discover, that, when the domains of the crown were no 
longer productive, the monarch had a right to expect some assist- 
ance from his subjects. They were occupied only with the care of 
their own interests, as they supposed, — with their own narrow, and 
therefore mistaken, views of selfish cunning. Some of these baillia- 
ges could not discover that they must all be pillaged and ruined, 
unless they acted in concert, and unless they at least appeared 
together in the shape of an assembly ; and the whole country, not- 
withstanding the experience of the last reign, could not, it seems, 
understand that the public cause would thus be left once more to 
the insurrections of the metropolis, from which nothing could be 
expected but anarchy the most savage, if triumphant, or slavery the 
most desperate, if unsuccessful. 

As if to complete the sum total of national folly, the clergy, from 
whom better might have been expected, considering the superiority 
of their education, conceived that they were following their own 
interests by negotiating with the crown and making a separate bar- 
gain. 

The scene, however, soon miserably changed. A successful ex- 



FRANCE. 129 

pedition against the Flemings and a victorious army enabled the 
Duke of Burgundy, one of the royal council, to return to Paris and 
to settle all constitutional discussions by the sword. Every pi'ofes- 
sion and promise to the subject, every agreement that had been 
made with the States-General at any former period, was set at 
naught, Paris treated as a con(|ucred city, its citizens drawn out 
(some of the most respectable) and publicly executed, and its 
calamities held out as an example to every other description of the 
people, to prove that the royal authority was not to be resisted, and 
that their franchises, their customs, and their rights were all to be 
of no account, when opposed to the sovereign will of the prince. 

How far these royal counsellors befriended their own interests, 
how far they thus protected themselves from the consequences of 
their own. dissensions, by leaving no power to exist which they re- 
spected, — how far they thus allowed the people to be even worth 
their pillaging, by depriving them of the rewards of industry, — how 
far they thus enabled the country to resist the English, and how far 
they therefore consulted their own individual consequence, — how 
far they acted skilfully, even on the most disgusting principles of 
selfishness and baseness, to say nothing of their duty to their king, 
their country, their Creator, — how far they were wise, even accord- 
ing to tlieir own unworthy estimate of wisdom, — and how far the 
late monarch, so renowned for his wisdom, had been wise also, — the 
student will have ample opportunity of considering, when he comes 
to survey the melancholy scenes which, in the history of France, are 
now opening to his view. 

These scenes can be little described by the words of a lecture ; 
they cannot be conveyed to a reader even by an historian. They 
are to be comprised, indeed, under the general terms of " The dissen- 
sions between the rival houses of Burgundy and Orleans and the suc- 
cesses of the English." But it is not too much to say, that such was 
the exasperation of these two great parties in the state, and such the 
consequences of the inroads of their English invaders, that men seemed 
no longer to retain the proper characteristics of their nature, and these 
annals of the French nation present only a continued succession of assas- 
sinations, massacres, and executions ; and when to these arc added the 
coronation of a foreign enemy (our own Henry the Fifth *) , the long 
possession of France by the English, the ravage, the desolation, that 
were the attendants of such domestic and foreign war, the whole forms 
together a darkened scene, which no human being, of whatever nation, 
can now contemplate without the most perfect affliction and horror ; the 
very liistorian might adopt the words of our great dramatic poet : — 

'■ Alas, poor connti'y ! 
Almost afraid to know itself! — where nothing, 
But who knew nothing, was once seen to smile ; 

* Henry the Sixth, crowned at Paris, Deccmher 17, 1431. L'Art de Tcrifier les Dates 
(Paris, 1818), Tom. vi. p. 89, Tom. vii. p. 145. See also the historians generally. — N. 

17 



130 LECTURE VII. 

Where sighs, and groans, and shrieks that rent the air 
Were made, not marked, — the dead man's knell 
Was there scarce asked, for who ; and good men's lives 
Expired before the flowers in their caps, 
Dying or ere they sickened." 

The lesson of tlie whole I have intimated to you, and I proceed to 
other considerations. — Our own Henry the Fifth had been crowned 
king of France in the French capital ; yet was France at last, after 
a bloody conflict of thirty years, enabled to expel the English ; and 
one acceptable conclusion from the whole may at length be drawn, 
— that a country is never to be despaired of, and that the disadvan- 
tages of invaders are so permanent and irremediable, that, in any 
tolerable comparison of strength, all foreign invaders must, sooner or 
later, meet mth their just overthrow, if a sviflfering nation can but 
endure its trial. From such sufferings, however, in this instance of 
France, there was one result, and that of the most melancholy nar 
ture : the constitution of France was lost. 

After the decease of the unhappy Charles the Sixth, whom we 
have just mentioned, the English were expelled by his son, Charles 
the Seventh. Charles the Seventh is the monarch who was crowned 
by the Maid of Orleans, a heroine in the recital of whose noble and 
matchless exploits history appears to be converted into romance, and 
whose merits were so great as to be thought supernatural by her 
contemporaries. But the enemies of France were no sooner driven 
from her fields, than the prerogatives of the crown were necessarily 
strengthened, and a far more fatal, because a far more lasting, en- 
emy than the English succeeded in the person of the sovereign 
himself, in the person of Charles the Seventh. Here was again 
another instance of the still recurring ill fortune of the constitution 
of France. How was the nation to resist a prince whom they had 
themselves rescued from the English, and whom thet/, rather than 
any spirit of enterprise in his own nature, had enabled to win his 
crown ? What blessing could now be made either desirable or intel- 
ligible to Frenchmen, but that of peace and repose ? What could 
there be of alarm or terror in the prerogative of the crown, to those 
who had seen an invader on the throne ? Before the ministers of 
the power of Charles, to the afflicted imagination of the French 
people, must have walked the spectres of their slaughtered country- 
men, and the frowning warriors of England ; and slavery itself, if it 
was not foreign slavery, must to them have appeared a state of hap- 
piness and triumph. 

That fatal measure, fatal for the liberties of his country, was now 
taken by Charles the Seventh, by w^hich his reign must be for ever 
distinguished, — the establishment of a mihtary force, and the allot- 
ment of a perpetual tax for the support of it, unchecked by any 
representative a^ssembly. This mihtary force and tax might not be 
formidable in their first appearance ; but, the principle once admit- 



FRANCE. 131 

ted, both the force and the tax Avere easily advanced, step by step, 
to any extent that suited the views of each succeeding monarch. 
Excuses, and even reasonable considerations (reasonable to those 
•who see not the importance of a precedent and a principle), can 
never be wanting on these occasions: they were not wanting on 
this. 

It should be observed, that this vital IjIow to the real greatness of 
France was introduced as a reform. If any of those who were livin"f 
at the time had spoken of the probable consequences of such a prece- 
dent, and had insisted upon its danger to the best interests of their 
country, they would only have been disregarded or suspected of dis- 
loyalty. But no stronger instance can be given, if any were neces- 
sary, of the importance of a principle at all times ; a precedent may 
not bo often carried into all its consequences, when favorable to the 
liberties of a country, but it always is, when it is otherwise. 

Even in a French historian like Villaret, the detail of this great 
measure is very instructive. It is very instructive to see the manner 
in which a nation, from a sense of present uneasiness, forgets, as it 
is always disposed to do, all its more remote and essential interests ; 
and the more this memorable transaction could be examined, the 
more complete and striking would, no doubt, be found the lesson 
which it affords. 

When this military force and tax had been once established, and 
both removed (which is the important point) entirely from all check 
and control by any other legitimate authority in the state, the power 
of the crown had no more tempests to encounter ; no further contest 
appears in the succeeding reigns ; the person of the king might be 
insulted or endangered, but not the royal authority. We hear of no 
more struggles for the privileges of the people, and for the right of 
taxation, — no more important meetings of the States-General ; aU 
hope, at least all assertion, of constitutional liberty was at an end ; 
and the contentions of the great, who were alone left to contend, were 
directed solely to the questions of their own personal ambition. 

If any hope for France yet remained, it expired under the reign 
of Louis the Eleventh, the son and successor of Charles. This prince 
was of all others the most fitted to destroy the liberties of his coun- 
try: penetrating, sagacious, cautious, well considering the propor- 
tion between his means and his ends ; a finished dissembler of his 
own interests and passions, and a skilful master of those of others ; 
decisive, active, and cntirel}' devoid of principle and feeling. The 
nobles made an ineffectual effort to retain some of that pohtical 
power which, if they lost it, was destined, all of it, to fall entirely 
into the possession of the crowm ; and this effort was made in the War 
for the Public Good, as they affected to call it. But Louis contrived 
to cajole, overpower, or wield to the purposes of his ambition the king 
of England, the Duke of Burgundy, and the Swiss. He increased 



132 LECTURE VII. 

the standing armj, raised the taille to the most enormous amount, 
made this tax a step to the introduction of other imposts, reunited 
raanj important fiefs to the crown ; and, if men could acquire glory 
bj the successful enterprises of ungenerous ambition, — if happiness 
could be the consequence of cruelty and oppression, deceit and 
fraud, — if any treasures or any possessions could be compared with 
the consciousness of being loved and respected, — then, indeed, Louis 
the Eleventh might have been thought the renowned, the powerful, 
and the happy ; and this detestable tyrant might have been held up 
by courtiers and courtly writers as the envy of all succeeding 
monarchs. A different conclusion is, however, to be drawn from the 
picture of his life and character, which, fortunately, has been exhibited 
to us by Philip de Comines, a faithful and confidential minister, who 
knew him thoroughly, and who appears even to have been attached 
to his person and memory, in defiance of his better judgment, by the 
influence of the kind treatment wliich he had personally received 
from him, as his master. 

The king, it seems, successful in his intrigues, unresisted in his 
oppressions, and with nothing further to apprehend from his rivals or 
his enemies, was at last admonished of the frailty of all human grand- 
eur by messengers far more ominous and dreadful than the couriers 
and officers that announce the miscarriage of ambitious projects or 
the defeats of invading armies ; he was seized by a first and then a 
second fit of epilepsy, so Adolent and long, that he lay without speech, 
and apparently without life, till his attendants concluded that he was 
no more. To life, indeed, he returned, but all the comforts of exist- 
ence were gone for ever. " The king returned to Tours," says 
the historian Comines, (I quote his own artless words,) " and kept 
himself so close, that very few were admitted to see him ; for he was 
grown jealous of all his courtiers, and afraid they would either de- 
pose or deprive him of some part of his regal authority. He did 
many odd things, which made some believe his senses were a little 
impaired ; but they knew not his humors. As to his jealousy, all 
princes are prone to it, especially those who are wise, have many 
enemies, and have oppressed many people, as our master had done. 
Besides, he found he was not beloved by the nobility of the king- 
dom, nor many of the commons, for he had taxed them more than 
any of his predecessors, though he now had some thoughts of easing 
them, as I said before ; but he should have begun sooner. Nobody 
•was admitted into the place where he kept himself but his domestic 
servants, and his archers, which were four hundred, some of which 
kept constant guard at the gate, wliile others walked continually 
about to prevent its being surprised. Round about the castle he 
caused a lattice, or iron gate, to be set up, spikes of iron planted in 
the wall, and a kind of crow's-feet, with several points, to be placed 
along the ditch, wherever there was a possibility for any person to 



FRANCE. 133 

enter. Besides wbicli, he caused four watchhouses to be made, all of 
thick iron, and full of holes, out of which thej might shoot at their 
pleasure, in which he placed forty of his crossbows, who were to be 
upon the guard night and day. He left no person of whom he had 
any suspicion either in town or country, but he sent his archers not 
only to warn, but to conduct them away. To look upon him, one 
Avould have thought him rather a dead than a living man. No 
person durst ask a favor, or scarce speak to him of any thing. 
He inflicted very severe punishments, removed officers, disbanded 
soldiers." 

Such is the picture of the historian. The tyrant of the poet is 
described only more concisely : — 

" He had lived long enough : his way of life 
Was fallen into the scar, the yellow leaf: 
And that which should accompany old age, 
As honor, love, obedience, troops of friends. 
He could not look to have ; but, in tlieir stead. 
Curses, not loud, but deep, mouth-honor, breath, 
"Which the poor heart would fain deny, but dare not." 

By clothes more rich and magnificent than before, — by passing 
his time in subjecting those around him to every variety of fortune, 
to the changes of his smile and of his frown, — by filhng distant 
countries with his agents, to purchase for him rarities, which, when 
brought to him, he heeded not, — by every strange and ridiculous 
expedient that his uneasy fancy could de\dse, — by all this idle 
bustle and parade of royalty and power, did this helpless, wretched 
man endeavour to conceal from the world and himself the horrid 
characters of death which were visible on his frame, the fearful 
handwriting which had told him that his kingdom was departing 
from him. In vain did he send for the holy man of Calabria, and, 
on his approach, " fall down," says the historian, " upon liis knees 
before him, and beg him to prolong his life." In vain was the holy 
vial brought from Rheims, the vest of St. Peter sent him by the 
Pope. " Wliatever was thought conducible to his health," says 
Philip de Comines, " was sent to him from all corners of the world." 
" His subjects trembled at his nod," he observes, " and whatever he 
commanded was executed." But it was in vain. He could indeed 
"command the beggar's knee," but not "the health of it"; and, 
suspicious of every one, — of his son-in-law, his daughter, and his 
own son ; having turned his palace into a prison for himself, — into a 
cage, not milike those which in his hours of cruelty he had made for 
others ; insulted by Ins physician, and considered by his faithful 
minister as expiating, by his torments in this world, the crimes which, 
as he says, would otherwise have brought down upon him the punish- 
ments of the Almighty in the next, this poor king, for such we are 
reduced at last to call him, expired in his castle, a memorable exam- 
ple, that, whatever be the station or the success, nothing can com- 

L 



134 LECTURE VIII. 

pensate for the want of innocence, and that, amid the intrigues of 
cunning and the projects of ambition, the first policy which is to be 
learned is the policy of virtue. 



LECTURE VIII. 



SPAIN, ITALY, GERMANY, SWITZERLAND. 

In my last lecture I endeavoured to call your attention to the 
constitutional history of France. I did so, because this is one of the 
first objects of importance in the history of Europe, froni the efiects 
which that great kingdom has always been fitted, from its situation 
and natural advantages, to produce upon every other. Such must 
always have been the influence of its arms and its example, that it is 
not too much to say, that the history of the civiUzed world would 
have been changed, and most favorably changed, if France had not 
lost its constitutional liberties, and sunk into an arbitrary monarchy. 

But the same subject is of great interest to ourselves, from the 
illustration which it affords of the merits and the good fortune of our 
ancestors. This island lost not its liberties in hke manner, because 
it retained its public assembhes, and because they retained the right 
of taxation. 

How, therefore, or why, arose this difference in the fate of the two 
kingdoms ? 

It is this question that I am so anxious that you should bear along 
with you in your thoughts, while you read the annals of every other 
country of Europe ; and the more strongly to impress it on your 
minds, I pointed out to you, in my last lecture, a very remarkable 
epoch in the French history, during which there was evidently some 
great effort made for the constitution of France by the members of 
the States-General, and particularly by the third estate, and by Mar- 
cel and the Parisians. I next alluded to those parts of the subse- 
quent reigns, when the liberties of that country were more_ slowly 
undermined, but not less fatally attacked, particularly during the 
times of Charles the Seventh and Louis the Eleventh. 

De Mably will always apprise you, by the tone and nature of his 
observations, what are the transactions and what the periods of im- 
portance ; and these you should examine, through all their detail, in 
some of the great French historians : I have found the History of 
Velly the most elaborate and complete. I must remind you, that 



SPAIN. 135 

the constitutional history of France is noticed by Robertson, in his 
introduction to Charles the Fifth, and his text is accompanied by 
three valuable notes, the thirty-eighth, thirty-ninth, and fortieth. 

But the same question which I have thus recommended to you, 
with respect to France and England, an inquiry into their constitu- 
tional histories, may be extended to the other kingdoms of Europe ; 
and we have hitherto said nothing of Spain, a country which, like 
England, might have obtained a free and mixed government, as the 
elements of its constitution were originally similar (monarchy, feudal 
lords, and national assemblies), but which, like France, from various 
untoward circumstances, lost its liberties, and has had to descend, 
through different stages of degradation, at last almost to extinction 
and ruin. 

I must repeat to you, before we advert to Spain, that it is only by 
inquiries of this sort into the histories of other countries that you 
can learn properly to understand how slowly a good government can 
be formed, — by what attention and anxiety it can alone be main- 
tained, — what are the exact points of difficulty in the formation of 
a good government, — and the manner (often the singular and un- 
expected manner) in which these difficulties are evaded, or modified, 
or overcome, more particularly in your 0"\mi, 

But to allude, as we have proposed, to the history of Spain. — In 
the fifth volume of Gibbon may be found an account of the introduc- 
tion of the Moors into that country, of their settlement there, and of 
the magnificence of their caliphs ; and to him I refer. An estimate 
is also given of the science and knowledge of this remarkable people ; 
and at first we might be tempted to conclude, that, in the general 
darkness and barbarity of Europe, the light of civilization and learn- 
ing was destined to issue from the Mahometan capital of Cordova. 
But the science and knowledge of these Arabians, when more nearly 
examined, lose much of their importance; and the nature of their 
government was little fitted, however accompanied by science and the 
arts, to build up, either in Spain or in other countries, the fabric of 
human happiness. Unfortunately, too, it happened that a long suc- 
cession of bloody struggles was to ensue between the Christians and 
the Moors ; and all hope that the progress of society should be ex- 
emplified in Spain became on that account extremely feeble. There 
is something m these wars between the Christians and the Moors that 
has a sound of heroism and romance, well fitted to awaken our inter- 
est and curiosity. But I know not that these sentiments can now be 
gratified, or extended, beyond the poetry and the legends by which 
they have been inspired. 

The great historian of Spain is Mariana, who " has infused," says 
Gibbon, " into his noble work the style and spirit of a Roman classic. 
After the twelfth century, his knowledge and judgment may," he ob- 
serves, " be safely trusted ; but he adopts and adonis the most absurd 



136 LECTURE VIII. 

of the national legends, and supplies from a lively fancy the chasms 
of historical evidence." Roderick Ximenes — not the statesman, 
though also an archbishop of Toledo — is the father of Spanish his- 
tory ; yet he did not live till five hundred years after the conquest 
of the Arabs ; and the earlier accounts are, it seems, very meagre. 
But the work of Mariana, with the continuation of Miniana, consists 
of four volumes, folio, and will now be more often mentioned than 
consulted, and consulted than read. There is an English translation 
of it. 

I must, therefore, observe, that great diligence appears to have 
been employed on this portion of history by the authors of the Mod- 
ern History ; and the Spanish historians Mariana, Ferreras, Roderick, 
and others, are continually referred to. The student may, therefore, 
consider the subject as placed within his reach by the detail which 
he will find in the sixteenth and seventeenth volumes of the Modern 
History. But it is a detail which, however great may be its interest 
in chivalry and romance, he will never read ; and he wiU probably 
cast over it that passing glance with which we may consent to survey 
such sanguinary scenes in the history of mankind. In Mr. Gibbon's 
Outlines, published in the second volume of his Memoirs, there are a 
few notices of this part of the Spanish history, which will enable the 
student to hasten through the narrative in the Modern History with 
the least possible expenditure of his time. 

In the eleventh century, the Christian princes, who had fallen back 
upon the most northern parts of the kingdom, advanced southward. 
They were encouraged by the intestine divisions of the Mahometans, 
who had now for a few centuries exhibited their superiority in war 
and their magnificence in peace. 

The siege of Toledo, and the exploits of the Spanish general, Don 
Rodrigo I)iaz de Bivar, form the next objects of attention. Rod- 
rigo is the Cid whom history, and still more the muse of Corneille, 
have consigned to immortality. There has been a history of the Cid 
lately published by Mr. Southey. 

The great battle of Tolosa, from which the Moors never recovered, 
and their subsequent stand in the kingdom of Granada, are the next 
points of importance. About this time, also, flourished the king Al- 
phonso, who is remembered rather for his taste and knowledge of 
astronomy than for the superiority of his talents in government. 

For some time the Mahometan kingdom of Granada, and the four 
Christian monarchies of Castile, Aragon, Navarre, and Portugal, 
were distinguished from each other, each retaining its respective laws 
and limits ; and the conclusion of the whole is the union of the crowns 
of Castile and Aragon under Ferdinand and Isabella, and the de- 
fence, capitulation, and expulsion of the Moors. 

Both the Christians and Moors, in the course of this great con- 
test, had similar advantages and impediments : friends and allies 



SPAIN. 137 

behind them ; intestine divisions ; personal bravery and love of glory, 
and the animation of religious and political rage. But the north of 
Spain was more fitted than the south to produce active and hardy 
warriors. Among the Christians, the warlike ardor of chivalry was 
advancing or at its height : on the contrary, the enthusiasm of the 
followers of Mahomet had now spent itself in conquest, and the 
fiercer passions of their nature were lost in the blandishments of 
pleasure ; riches and luxury had probably abated their fierceness 
without adding proportionably to their skill in the science of war : 
and, finally, the Spaniards were fighting for a country of which they 
must have considered themselves as the rightful possessors. 

The narrative of Gibbon and the detail of the authors of the Mod- 
ern History -will gradually conduct the student to the observations of 
Dr. Robertson in his introductory volume to the History of Charles 
the Fifth. From the researches of this excellent historian, he will 
find, that, notmthstanding the conquests of the Moors and the long 
struggles which had followed, a situation of things obtained similar to 
what he has observed in other parts of Europe, and therefore con- 
taining some promise of subsequent prosperity and freedom. The 
Gothic manners and laws still survived, from the tolerance of the 
Moorish conquerors ; the provinces of Spain, having been slowly 
wrested from the Moors, were divided among military leaders ; and 
the feudal lord in no country appeared more powerful and inde- 
pendent. 

The same causes which gave rise to the cities in other parts of Eu- 
rope were assisted in Spain by circumstances pecuhar to itself ; — 
these are well explained by Robertson ; — and in this manner we 
arrive at the same great distinctions of policy, — a limited monarch, 
feudal lords, the Cortes or national assembly, and of that assembly 
the towns making a constituent part. The spirit of the people was 
high, and the love of liberty great ; and they who have a pleasure in 
seeing the democratic part of a mixed government strongly predomi- 
nant may consider the very remarkable institution of the Justiza or 
the supreme judge of Aragon ; they may see, at the same time, the 
high prerogatives which the Aragonese Cortes possessed ; — so that 
in this manner was realized all that could well be proposed in theory 
by those who are disposed to rest a government very much on a 
popular basis. 

The justiza was in reality the guardian of the people, and, when 
necessary, the controller of the prince ; and every precaution, as far 
as we can now judge, seems to have been adopted, the better to con- 
trol in his turn the justiza liimsclf, and to provide against the powers 
of this singular representative of the general interests of the com- 
munity. The Aragonese Cortes, themselves were also as proud in 
principle and as strong in power as could be wished by the most 
popular reasoner. The compact, for instance, between the king and 
18 L* 



138 LECTURE VIII.* 

his barons is supposed to have been thus expressed: — " We, who 
are each of us as good, and who are altogether more powerful than 
you, promise obedience to your government, if you maintain our 
rights and liberties ; if not, not." Finally, it must be observed, that 
the attachment of the Aragonese to this singular constitution of gov- 
ernment is said to have approached to superstitious veneration, and 
to have reconciled them to their consciousness of poverty, and to the 
barrenness of their country. 

It were to be wished that more information could be procured with 
respect to these remarkable institutions and their effects. It should 
seem, however, that the obvious difficulties occurred. It is easy to 
dispose of power, but not therefore easy to make a good govern- 
ment, not therefore to render power so disposed either salutary or 
even harmless. The justiza might be made the supreme judge of 
the concerns both of the king and of the nobles ; but Avho, then, 
was to appoint the justiza, — who afterwards to censure or control 
him ? Or the nobles might be supreme ; but by whom, then, were 
the nobles to be restrained ? And how was it to be expected, that, 
in either case, the monarch either could or ought to be contented and 
at rest ? What, after all, seems to have been the result ? A con- 
tinued struggle, open or concealed. 

In 1264, the nobles insisted that the king should not nominate the 
justiza without their consent. This was, in fact, to assume the whole 
power to themselves ; for he whose consent is necessary to an ap- 
pointment appoints. Before this time the justiza had been nominated 
by the choice, and held his office at the pleasure, of the king ; but 
this last circumstance was to make the justiza not a little useless, and 
to give the real power to the crown. The power of the king was, 
however, to be corrected, it seems, by the prerogative which the 
nobles enjoyed, of what was called " the union," or of confederating 
formally and legally to give law to the king. This was, however, 
only to constitute two powers wliich were to be in a state of perpetual 
collision with each other. Afterwards this privilege of the nobles 
was abolished, as too dangerous to the peace of society ; and then 
the justiza was contmued in office for life. But tliis was to render 
him. the monarch, in the apprehension of the wearers of the crown ; 
and therefore attempts were perpetually made by the kings to remove 
such justizas as were obnoxious to them. Subsequently, in 1442, 
the Cortes ordained that the justiza should not be removed but at 
their pleasure. Again, so late as 1461 contrivances were adopted to 
form a tribunal before whom the justiza v/as to appear and answer for 
his conduct. 

But all these expedients, and aU expedients of the kind, are only 
the eflForts of men who are struggling with a difficulty which it is im- 
possible entirely to remove. Events such as we have thus briefly 
collected from Robertson — and the history itself would, no doubt, 



SPAIN. 139 

furnish many more, if it had been philosophically written by the 
Spanish historians — partake, in fact, of the nature of revolutions, — 
the varying triumphs of contending principles of government ; con- 
tests which, however natural they may be in any elementary state of 
society, or however tolerable among those who are accustomed to 
violence and bloodshed, are the great evils to be avoided, if men are 
to be rendered happy by the institutions of government, or are sup- 
posed to exist in any state of civilization and improvement. To throw 
the power decidedly into the hands of 07ie great magistrate, or of one 
great body of nobles, or of one great assembly of the people, is to 
cut the knot, not to loose it ; it is to face and despise all the evils 
which are most deserving of our alarm and avoidance. 

I must observe, that evils and dilficultics like these show the value 
of any constitution already established, where these elementary prin- 
ciples of rivalsliip are tolerably well improved, and the unspeakable 
value of any Uke our own, where they are on the whole well com- 
posed. 

Among the Castihans, from what little can now be collected of their 
laws and constitution, the interests of mankind had a better prospect. 
The Cortes consisted of three estates, and possessed powers analo- 
gous to those of our Parliaments in England. But everywhere in 
Spain, as in other parts of Europe (with the exception of England), 
the powers of the crown were too limited ; the barons enjoyed pre- 
rogatives inconsistent with the order, peace, and prosperity of the 
community. These it was impossible for the monarchs to endure. 
A constant struggle, secret or avowed, was the consequence ; and 
the question here, as elsewhere, was only, — What was to be the re- 
sult ? How was the power to be hereafter shared ? Were the peo- 
ple, or the monarchs, or the nobles, to predominate, and to what 
extent ? 

Inquiries of this nature must be followed up through the pages of 
Robertson, and Watson in his History of Philip the Second, through 
the reigns of Ferdinand, Charles the Fifth, and Philip the Second. 
I cannot here enter into such inquiries. I have pointed them out to 
you. 

It is many years since I wrote this lecture, and there has lately 
appeared a work by Mrs. Calcott, a popular History of Spain, in two 
octavo volumes. It may be recommended to the student, for the 
author has made every thing of the subject that was possible. But 
the truth is, that the subject is impracticable. There are so many 
Moorish dynasties and Christian dynasties, and the whole is such an 
intermingled scene of eternal confusion and bloodshed, the heroes 
and great personages concerned so constantly come like shadows and 
so depart, that the student can scarcely be required to endeavour to 
remember the events and the characters that he reads of, for any 
such attempt would be impossible. He must turn over the pages, one 



140 LECTURE Vm. 

after another ; he will observe many interesting scenes of a dramatic 
nature, but he must look more attentively at those subjects which, 
from what he has read in Gibbon, and heard on different occasions, 
he may be aware, deserve consideration. Every thing is done by 
Mrs. Calcott that can be done by good sense and good principles of 
civil and religious liberty, and by commendable diligence in the col- 
lection and display of the materials which her subject supplied ; and 
the student will see the main points presented to his view, and rear 
sonable observations made, and on the whole feel his mind left in a 
state of sufficient repose and satisfaction with respect to this portion 
of his course of historical reading. But it is impossible that his orig- 
inal expectations from this part of history can be gratified, more par- 
ticularly if he is a person of poetical temperament, and has got his 
imagination excited by all the enchanting dreams that, by means of 
ballads, romances, histories, and dramas, are for ever associated with 
this renowned land of magnificence, chivalry, and love. 

Spain has now been added to our former enumeration of Italy and 
Germany, of France and England. To what country shall we next 
advert ? We cannot but feel a melancholy interest in the ruins of 
ancient greatness, in Constantinople and in the Empire of the East ; 
it is natural, it is fit, that we should cast our eyes on this celebrated 
city ; and if we have recourse to the History of the Decline and Fall, 
we shall find that the genius of the historian survives, while the maj- 
esty of his subject has expired. It is in vain that we turn to Greece 
while we are inquiring after the hopes or the interests of the human 
race. The Eastern Empire is at this period sinking deeper into de- 
chne with each succeeding age. Without, are new barbarians, of a 
strange aspect and hostile religion, pressing forward to accomplish its 
destruction ; within, are enemies still more formidable, slavery, dis- 
sension, and licentiousness ; and no benefit can be expected to be 
derived to mankind from an empire, a nation, a city, thus gradually 
reduced, enfeebled, and destroyed, — capable of no generous effort 
or permanent defence, and every moment descending to a final and 
merited extinction. 

From Constantinople, the Empire of the East, we may turn once 
more to Rome, so long the capital of the Empire of the West. We 
may turn to the sixty-ninth and seventieth chapters of Gibbon ; these 
are very accessible, and appear to me sufficient. In these chapters 
the historian casts a last look on the original object of his labors, the 
Roman city, declined and fallen from her height, and no longer mis- 
tress of the world ; yet interesting from the monuments which she 
still retained of heroism and genius, and from the melancholy contrast 
of present degradation with ancient glory and renown. In these 
chapters he reviews the state and revolutions of Rome till she finally 
acquiesced in the absolute power of the Popes ; and from these pages 
we are enabled to collect very sufficient information on those points 
which are more immediately deserving of our attention. 



ITALY. 141 

But since I wrote this lectui'C, the -work of Mr. Sismondi, his His- 
tory of the ItaUan Repubhcs, has appeared, and the work which I 
have so often alkided to of INIr. Hallam. Along with the chapters 
of Mr. Gibbon, therefore, I must now propose to you the two chap- 
ters of Mr. Hallam on Italy, which should be diligently read. In 
his note, which you will find very valuable, you will see him speak 
of the work of Sismondi, and in the following terms: — " The pub- 
lication of M. Sismondi's Histoire des Republiqucs Italiennes has 
thrown a blaze of light around the most interesting, at least in 
many respects, of European countries [Italy] durmg the Middle 
Ages. I am happy to bear witness, so far as my own studies have 
enabled me, to the learning and diUgence of this writer : qualities 
which the world is sometimes apt not to suppose, where they per- 
ceive so much eloquence and philosophy." Mr. Hallam then goes 
on to state why he considers Sismondi as having almost superseded 
the Annals of Muratori, from the twelfth century at least, and only 
thinks it proper to observe, in the way of criticism, that, " from too 
redundant details, and sometimes from unnecessary reflections, M. 
Sismondi has run mto a prolixity Avhich will probably intimidate the 
languid students of our age." This, he says, " is the more to be 
regretted, because the History of Italian Repubhcs is calculated to 
communicate to the reader's bosom some sparks of the dignified 
philosophy, the love for truth and virtue, which lives along its 
eloquent pages." This is very high praise from Mr. Hallam, no 
very ready or profuse panegyrist at any time ; and my hearer must 
therefore turn to the volumes that liave won such important ajiproba- 
tion. I shall not be surprised, however, if he should find himself, 
after a sight and trial of these fifteen volumes, ready to sink into 
the class of the languid students of the age ; and I sincerely wish I 
could provide a Httle against a circumstance which, in the present 
state of literature and of the world, I do not consider as altogether 
unnatural. 

You will observe, then, that on the faU of the Western Empire, 
during the first six ages, the Barbarians and degenerate Itahans 
were mixed together, and from this sort of union was to arise a new 
nation to succeed to the Romans. Different repubUcs appeared in 
different parts of Italy. To these we are not a little indebted for 
the preservation of the treasures of antiquity, and, as Sismondi con- 
tends, it was in these repubhcs that were laid the foundations of all 
the subsequent glory and intellectual eminence of Europe. You 
see, then, at once the subject and the interest of it. 

In brief, Italy before the twelfth century was subjected to the 
Franks, then to the Germans, and then came four centuries of grand- 
eur and glory ; during which four centuries, from 1100 to 1530, 
Italy gave instruction to the rest of Europe in every art, science, 
and species of knowledge ; but in 1530, Italy was overpowered by 



142 LECTURE VIII. 

Charles the Fifth, and total insignificance has been the result. That 
is, in the course of the twelfth century, Italy acquired its liberties, 
enjoyed them during the thirteenth and fourteenth, and lost them 
soon after the close of the fifteenth. The sixteenth, seventeenth, 
and eighteenth have since been centuries of slavery, indolence, 
efieminacy, oblivion. 

On the whole, as far as the subject of repubhcs is concerned, you 
will find your general conclusions, drawn from the example of these 
Italian repubhcs, much what you would have expected them to be 
from your classical reading, from your perusal of the annals of the 
Grecian republics and of Rome : that they reward, and therefore 
awaken, the faculties of the human mind and the energies of the 
human character ; but that storms, and dissensions, and revolutions 
are the necessary result. Tliis is confessed by Sismondi himself. 
The fearful calamities, the dreadful price that is paid for the produc- 
tion of men of great talents ! By such men, ifc may be added, such 
forms of government are naturally favored, as affording them a 
theatre on which such talents may be displayed ; but whether the 
general happiness is thus best consulted is quite another question. 

Such, then, is the subject of Sismondi's History, — the history of 
these republics between the fall of the Romans and the estabhsh- 
ment of the power of Charles the Fifth. The age of merit un- 
known, — for the history is vmknown, — because it has never been 
written in any general or summary way, and it is impossible to read 
the particular details of it. 

Now I fear this impossibility neither is, nor ever can be, escaped. 
Mr. Sismondi has liimself attempted it. He has made a small vol- 
ume, published by Lardner, and it is a failure. I must venture to 
say, that even now, notwithstanding Mr. Sismondi's eloquence and 
skill, his love of Hberty, and his learning, it is very well for his 
work that there is a good index everywhere accompanying the orig- 
inal volumes ; and I would advise my hearers, and more particularly 
the languid students, to read and consider well the two chapters of 
Hallam, and then turn to Sismondi, making full use of his index, 
which the prior perusal of Hallam will enable liim to do. 

I must be content in this unworthy manner to dismiss this subject 
of Italy, and the work of Sismondi ; but originally I drew up many 
pages on the subject of both, particularly of the latter : they, how- 
ever, began to assume the bulk and appearance of a separate lec- 
ture ; and I now thmk it best to leave the student, as I have done, 
to his own exertions. 

Certainly every thing regarding Italy and the character of the 
Italians is most interesting. They appear to me, even as we now 
see them, to have intelhgence and talents equal to any study ; a 
versatility that would fit them at once for music and painting, for 
pontics and war ; an imagination which enables them still to retain 



GERMANY. 143 

the empire of the fine arts ; gentleness of manners, in other coun- 
tries found only in the upper ranks of society ; a sobriety which 
keeps them safe from any vulgar excess ; and on the whole, such 
gifts and qualities as would insure great national superiority and 
individual excellence, if proper opportunities could but be aiforded 
them, — opportunities which never were or could be afforded them, 
from the division of their country into repubhcs, or separate govern- 
ments, and the impossibility of rescuing them from their inherited 
antipathies and rivalships. 

At the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, in 1748, Italy might indeed be 
left to repose, but to repose on the supposition of existing without 
freedom and national spirit. No provision was made for her hber- 
ties and independence. Italy is, therefore, now only a vast museum, 
where the monuments of the genius of the dead are presented to the 
admiration of the Uving. No one asks what the princes and people 
of Italy are doing ; an iron sceptre is extended over them. The 
intelligent Itahan feels that he has no country, and mingles his sighs 
and regrets, his indignation and his anguish, with the sublime lamen- 
tations of the poet of England. 

We must now turn to Germany. I must leave Pfeffel to conduct 
you from the accession of Rodolph to the opening of the History 
of Robertson. His work may be read with more or less attention, 
according to the varying importance of the subject-matter. But the 
first observation that occurs is, that from this era the history of Ger- 
many assumes a double aspect, and that our attention must be 
directed, not only to the Empire itself, but to the rise, growth, and 
subsequent predominance of the house of Austria. A work has 
lately been published, executed with every appearance of diligence 
and precision, by Mr. Coxe, (Coxe's History of the House of Aus- 
tria,) and furnishing the English reader with a complete account of 
the political history of that celebrated family. By his labors, and 
those of Pfeffel and Robertson, we may consider ourselves as fur- 
nished with information which we must otherwise have extracted 
with great pain and labor, if at all, from those documents and liis- 
torians in different languages to which they refer. These writers 
will be found to illustrate each other and may be read together, — 
Pfeffel, Robertson, and Coxe. 

Among several details and particulars that belong to this portion of 
history, and which may be perused, I conceive, somewhat slightly, 
there are some which should be considered more attentively : the 
gradual settlement of the constitution of the Empire, as it is noted 
by Pfeffel, and more especially the Golden Bull of Charles the 
Fourth. This Golden Bull was the first among the fundamental 
laws of the Empire, and was published by the emperor, it is to be ob- 
served, with the consent and concurrence of the electors, princes, 
counts, nobility, and towns iynperial. 



144 LECTURE VIII. 

But by this famous bull, as by all tlie prior regulations of tlie 
Germanic constitution, the emperor was still left the elective, the 
limited, and almost the inefficient head of an aristocracy of princes, 
each of whom seems to have remained the real monarch in his own 
dominions ; and the vast strength and resources of Germany, dis- 
sipated and divided among a variety of interests, could at no time, 
even by the most able princes of the house of Austria, be combined 
and wielded against the enemies of the Empire with their proper and 
natural effect. 

Apparently, indeed, and on great public occasions, the majesty of 
the emperor was sufficiently preserved and displayed. The princes 
and potentates of Germany officiated as his domestics : the Count- 
Palatine of the Rhine, as his steward, placed the dishes on his table ; 
the Margrave of Brandenburg, as his chamberlain, brought the 
golden ewer and basin to wash ; the king of Bohemia, as his cup- 
bearer, presented the wine at his repast ; and each elector had his 
appropriate duty of apparent servility and homage. 

Such are the whimsical and contradictory scenes of arrogance 
and debasement, of ostentation and meanness, of grave folly and 
elaborate inanity, which are produced among mankind, when in a 
state of civihzed society, by the intermingled operation of the vari- 
ous passions of our nature. History is full of them ; and private 
life, as well as public, presents the same motley exhibition of com- 
pliments paid by which no one is to be flattered, trouble undertaken 
by which no one is to be benefited, and artifices practised by which 
no one is to be deceived. 

But we now approach one of the most interesting portions of his- 
tory, and one that is connected with Germany, and more particularly 
the house of Austria, — the formation of the Helvetic Confederacy, 
the growth and establishment of the independence and political con- 
sequence of Switzerland. 

The historians you are to read are Planta, and Coxe in his House 
of Austria. There is a history by Naylor, who is more ardent than 
either in his love of liberty, but seems less calm, and less likely to 
attract the confidence of his reader. 

Switzerlalid is a name associated with the noblest feelings of our 
nature, and we turn with interest to survey the rise and progress of 
countries which we have never been accustomed to mention but with 
sentiments of respect. In the history of the world, it has been the 
distinction of three nations only to be characterized by their virtue 
and their patriotism, — the early Romans, the Spartans, and the 
Swiss. We speak of the splendor of the Persians, of the genius of 
the Athenians ; but we speak of the hardy discipline and the inflex- 
ible virtue of Sparta, and of ancient republican Rome, — "the un- 
conquerable mind, and freedom's holy flame." So, in modern times, 
we speak of the treasures of Peru, of the luxuries of India, of the 



SWITZERLAND. 145 

commerce of Venice or of Holland, and of the arts of France ; but 
it is to SAvitzerland that we have been accustomed to turn, when, as 
philanthropists or moralists, we sought among mankind the unbought 
charms of native innocence, and the sublime simplicity of severe 
and contented virtue. 

More minute examination might possibly compel us to abate some- 
thing of the admiration which we have paid at a distance ; yet our 
admiration must ever be due to the singular people of Switzerland ; 
and it must always remain a panegyric of the highest kind, to owe 
renown to merit alone, — to have earned their independence by 
valor, and to have maintained their prosperity by virtue, — to be 
quoted as examples of those qualities by Avhich men may be so enno- 
bled, that they are respected, even amid their comparative poverty 
and rudeness, — to be described as heroes who, though too few to be 
feared by the weak, were too brave to be insulted by the strong. 
The student, while he reads the history of Switzerland, finds him- 
self, on a sudden, restored to his earliest emotions of virtuous sym- 
pathy, and he will almost believe liimself to be once more sur- 
rounded ])y the objects of his classical enthusiasm, — the avengers 
of Lucretia, and the heroes of ThermopykTe. Insolence and brutal- 
ity he will see once more resisted by the manly feelings of indignant 
nature. A few patriots meeting at midnight, and attesting the jus- 
tice of their cause to the Almighty Disposer of events, the God of 
equity and mercy, the Protector of the helpless ; calm and united, 
proceeding to the delivery of their country ; overpowering, dismissing, 
and expelling their unworthy rulers, the agents and representatives 
of the house of Austria, without outrage and without bloodshed ; re- 
taining all the serene forbearance of the most elevated reason, amid 
the energies and the fury of vindictive right ; and magnanimously re- 
serving the vengeance of their arms for those of their rulers who 
should dare to approach them in the field, with the instruments of 
war and the bloody menaces of injustice and oppression. 

Such a trial, indeed, awaited them ; but these inimitable peasants, 
these heroes of a few valleys, were not to be dismayed. They united 
and confirmed their union by an oath ; and if their enemy, as he de- 
clared, was determined to trample the audacious rustics under his 
feet, they would unawed (they said) await his coming, and rely on 
the protection of the Almighty. Their enemy came ; and he came, 
according to his language in his council of war, to take some by sur- 
prise, to defeat others, to seize on many, to surround them all, and 
thus infallibly extirpate the Avhole nation. Three separate attacks 
were px-epared, and the Duke Leopold himself conducted the main 
army ; but he was met at the straits of Morgarten by this band of 
brothers. Like one of the avalanches of their mountains, they de- 
scended upon his host, and they beat back into confusion, defeat, and 
destruction, himself, his knights, and his companions, the disdainful 
19 M 



146 LECTURE VIIL 

chivalry, who had Httle considered the formidable nature of men -who 
could bear to die, but not to be subdued, — men whom Nature her- 
self seemed to have thrown her arms around, to protect them from 
the invader, by encompassing them with her inaccessible mountains, 
her tremendous precipices, and all her stupendous masses of eternal 
winter. 

The Three Forest Cantons, five-and-twentj years after the asser- 
tion of their own independence, admitted to their union a fourth can- 
ton ; eighteen years after, a fifth ; and soon a sixth, seventh, and an 
eighth. These eight ancient cantons, Avhose union was thus gradually 
formed and perfected in the course of half a century from 1307, Avere 
afterwards joined by five other cantons ; and the Helvetic Confed- 
eracy was thus, in the course of two centuries, finally augmented to a 
union of thirteen. 

But many were the difficulties and dangers through which the can- 
tons had to struggle for their independence, and the strength of the 
oppressor was more than once collected to overwhelm, in the earlier 
periods of its existence, this virtuous confederacy. Seventy-one 
years after the defeat at Morgarten, another Duke of Austria, a 
second Leopold, with a second host of lords and knights, and their 
retainers, experienced once more a defeat near the walls of Sempach. 
But the battle was long suspended. These Austrian knights were un- 
wieldy, indeed, from their armour, but they were thereby inaccessible 
to the weapons of the Swiss ; and as they, too, were brave, and de- 
served a better cause, they were not to be broken. " I will open a 
passage," said the heroic Arnold, a knight of Unterwalden : "pro- 
vide for m\^ wife and children, dear countrymen and confederates ; 
honor my race." At these words, he threw himself upon the Aus- 
trian pikes, buried them in his bosom, bore them to the ground with 
his own ponderous mass, and his companions rushed over his expiring 
body into the ranks of the enemy ; a breach was made in this wall of 
mailed warriors, and the host was carried by assault. 

Such were long the patriots of Switzerland ; such they continued 
to the last. They received privileges and assistance from the Empire, 
while the Empire was jealous of the house of Austria. The paucity 
of their numbers was compensated by the advantages of their Alpine 
country. Their confederacies were artless and sincere, their lives 
rural and hardy, their manners simple and vu-tuous ; eternally re- 
minded of the necessity of a common interest, every peasant was a 
patriot, and every patriot a hero. Human prosperity must always be 
frail, human virtue imperfect ; yet we can long pursue their history, 
though with some anxiety and occasional pain, on the whole, with a 
triumph of virtuous pleasure. 

The most disagreeable characteristic of the people of Switzerland 
is their constant appearance, as mercenaries, in the armies of foreign 
countries. In excuse of the Swiss from the natural reproaches of 



SWITZERLAND. 14Y 

the reasoners and moralists of surrounding nations, it may be ob- 
served, that in a poor country emigration is the natural resource of 
every man whose activity and talents are above the ordinary level ; 
that the profession of arms was the obvious choice of those who could 
pretend to no superiority but in the qualities that constitute the mili- 
tary character ; that, with respect to the Swiss magistracies, they 
could have no right to prevent their youth from endeavouring to better 
then- condition ; and tliat, while part of the population was employed 
m the service of the different monarchies of Europe, — a part which 
could always be recalled on any urgent occasion, — Switzerland sup- 
ported, in fact, at the expense of those monarchies, not at its own, 
the disciplined troops which were necessary to its security and mi-dit 
otherwise have been dangerous to its hberties. It may be added, 
that their fellow-citizens who remained at home were thus saved 
from all the vices and calamities which result from the redundant 
population of every bounded community. 

_ No great legislator ever appeared in* Switzerland. The speculatist 
will find no pecuhar symmetry and grace in their systems, and may 
learn not to be too exclusive in his theories. Times and circum- 
stances taught their own lessons ; civil and religious establishments 
were imperfectly produced, roughly moulded, and slowly improved ; 
and whatever might be their other merits, they were perfectly ade- 
quate to dispense the blessings of government and rehgion to a brave 
and artless people. The great difficulty with the inhabitants of 
Switzerland was, at all times, no doubt, to judge how far they were 
to mix, on the principles of their own security, with the politics of 
their neighbours ; a second difficulty, to keep the states of their con- 
federacy from the influence of foreign intrigue and private jealousy ; 
a third, to make local and particular rights of property and prescrip- 
tion conform to the interests of the whole ; and finally, to preserve 
themselves sunple and virtuous ; — in a word, publicly and privately 
" to do justly and to love mercy," and again, " to keep themselves 
unspotted from the world." This was, indeed, a task wliich perfectly 
to execute was beyond the compass of human virtue. But with all 
their frailties and mistakes, their faults and folhes, they existed for 
nearly five hundred years in a state of great comparative independ- 
ence and honor, security and happiness ; and they perished only 
amid the ruthless and unprincipled invasions of revolutionary France, 
and the general ruin of Europe. 

I must, in my next lecture, turn to the great event of modern his- 
tory, the Eeformation ; but, before I do so, I must again remind my 
bearer, that, since I wrote the lectures I have just dehvered, several 
works_ have appeared which he must consider with the greatest 
attention, particularly the work of Mr. HaUam on the Middle Ages. 
All the subjects that have been glanced at in these earlier lectures 
are there thoroughly considered by this author with aU the patience 



148 LECTURE VIII. 

of an antiquarian and the spirit and sagacity of a philosopher : the 
French history, — the feudal system, — the history of Italy, — the 
history of Spain, — the history of Germany, — of the Greeks and 
Saracens, — the history of ecclesiastical power, — the constitutional 
history of England, — the Anglo-Saxon and the Anglo-Norman, — 
afterwards to the end of the civil wars between the Roses, — with a 
concluding dissertation on the state of society during the Middle 
Ages. I should have been saved many a moment of fatigue, some 
almost of despair, if these volumes had appeared before I began my 
lectures. 

In like manner I have since read, and should have been most 
happy to have read before, the first volume of the History of Eng- 
land by Sir James Mackintosh. The volume, though it may not be 
what the common reader may have expected, is totally invaluable to 
those who have read and thought on the subject before, and who, 
therefore, can duly estimate the value of the comprehensive esti- 
mates of an enlightened and superior understanding. The same, I 
doubt not, will be the character of the volumes that are to follow. 

I have since, too, looked over the three volumes of the History of 
the Anglo-Saxons by Mr. Turner. I do not think it necessary for 
the student to read every part with equal attention, or some parts 
with any ; but there is good information to be found in the book, 
such as he cannot well procure for himself, and may be grateful to 
Mr. Turner for offering him so completely and so agreeably : Avhat can 
now be known of Alfred, — more particularly of the sea-kings and 
sea-banditti of the North, — of the laws, languages, and manners 
of the Anglo-Saxons, so connected with our own, — their religion 
and their superstitions, — the constitution of their government, — 
their kings, — their Witenagemote, — their offices, — their aristoc- 
racy and population, — their poetry, hterature, and arts. These are 
all subjects very interesting, and can now be exhibited to a student 
only by an antiquarian, whose merits he may not be disposed to 
emulate, and should therefore gratefully acknowledge. 

I have also looked at the first volume of the Anglo-Saxon History 
by Palgrave, which, though interspersed with some trivial remarks, 
may be read with entertainment and advantage. The second vol- 
ume, on the rise and progress of the English constitution, will prob- 
ably be well worthy attention, coming, as it does, from so celebrated 
an antiquarian. 

For the History of Switzerland I have referred to Planta ; but 
there has been lately published a w^ork by Mr. Naylor. Mr. Naylor 
writes with a much more lively sensibility to the value of popular 
privileges ; but in his work I have been, on the whole, disappointed. 
His preface is unsatisfactory ; he gives no reasons for writing a new 
history of the Helvetic Confederacy, or statement of the deficiency 
to be supplied, or the new representations that are to be offered of 



THE REFORMATION. 149 

events and characters. Mr. Naylor, however, must have been 
aware that the vahie both of his own History and that of Mr. Planta 
must arise from the difficulty of reading the original authors. The 
dramatic manner, also, it must be observed, iii which Mr. Navlor 
writes, IS not fitted to induce the reader to withdraw his confidence 
trom the more regular and sober History of Mr. Planta. Mr Nay- 
lor's work, which reaches down to the peace of Westphaha, must, no 
doubt, be contrasted with Planta's, when any particular transaction 
IS inquired into ; for it is written on more popular principles. But 
tor the general purposes of historical information, I must still refer 
to ilanta, who seems sufficiently animated with proper sentiments of 
patriotism and independence, at least while he is describing the 
origin of the Helvetic Confederacy ; and his distaste to popula? feel- 
ings and forms of government may be suffered to evaporate in notes 
and observations on the French Revolution, when it is considered 
how atrocious has been the interference of the French rulers and 
their emissaries m the concerns of his native country. 



LECTURE IX. 

THE REFORMATION. 



The subjects tp which we adverted in the course of the last lecture 
would be found, if examined, immediately to introduce us to others 
ot such general miportance, that the particular histories of the dif- 
tercnt states of Europe can now no longer be separately surveyed 
Hiese new subjects of such general and extraordinary importance 
are the Revival of Learnmg and the Reformation. For the present 
theretore, we must leave these particular histories of Enid of 
1 ranee, and Germany, and endeavour to famiharize the student to 
those general remarks which constitute the philosophy of history 
and, above all, to mduce him to fix his view very earnestly on the 
events I have just mentioned, the greatest of modern history, — the 
Revival of Learning and the Reformation. 

A few preliminary observations may, however, be suggested to 

fZ of .1 m'^T'a''^^^^" ''^^^''S' ^' y^^ ^^^e d™ from the his- 
tory of the Middle Ages, you wUl be brought down to the history of 
the fourteen h and fifteenth centuries, and this era, you will per- 
mJA' rf I -,'f of inventions and discoveries. I allude more 
particularly to, 1st, the art of turning Ihien into paper ; 2dly, the 



150 LECTURE IX. 

art of printing ; 3dly, the composition and the application of gun- 
powder, more especially to the purposes of war ; 4thlj, the discov- 
ery of the strange property of the magnetic needle, or at least its 
general application to the purposes of navigation. The importance 
of such discoveries will be sufficiently obvious to your own reflec- 
tions. 

To each of these inventions and discoveries belongs an appropriate 
history highly deserving of curiosity, — of more curiosity, indeed, 
than can now be gratified, — and each strongly illustrative of the 
human mind ; creeping on from hint to hint, like the Portuguese 
mariner from cape to cape, owing something to good fortune, but far 
more, and even that good fortune itself, to enterprise and persever- 
ance. You will see some notice taken of these inventions and dis- 
coveries in Koch. 

As the study of the Dark Ages conducts us to the ages of inven- 
tions and discoveries, so do these last to the era which was marked 
by the revival of learning and the Reformation. All these periods 
mingle with each other, the prior with the succeeding one, and no 
line of demarcation can be tranced to separate or define them ; yet 
may they be known, each by its more prevailing characteristic of 
darkness, discovery, and progress ; and as we are now supposed to 
have passed through the first two, we must next proceed to the last, 
the era of the revival of learning and the Reformation. 

To this era we shall be best introduced by adverting to the gen- 
eral situation of Europe, more particularly by turning to the eastern 
portion of it ; for we shall here be presented with a train of events 
which, if we could but transport ourselves in imagination to this 
fearful period, would almost totally overpower us, by appearing to 
threaten once more, as in the irruption of the Barbarians, the very 
civilization of society. For what are we here called to witness ? 
The progress of the Turks ; the terror of Bajazet ; the danger of 
Constantinople ; and then, again, the unexpected appearance of sav- 
ages still more dreadful than the Turks, — Tamerlane and his Tar- 
tars ; the extraordinary achievements of these tremendous conquer- 
ors ; afterwards, the revival of the Ottoman power ; and at last, the 
destruction of the Eastern Empire, of Constantinople itself. 

This series of memorable events has been detailed by Mr. Gibbon 
with that spirit and knowledge of his subject, that compression and 
arrangement, which so particularly distinguish those chapters of 
his work where his theme is splendid or important, and which render 
them so inexhaustible a study to his more intelUgent readers. I 
must refer you to the work, making, however, in the mean time, a 
few observations. 

In contemplating the final extinction of the Eastern Empire, it 
may be some consolation to us to think that Constantinople did not 
fall without a blow ; that the city was not surrendered without a de- 



THE REFORMATION. 151 

fence which was worthy of this last representative of human great- 
ness ; that the emperor was a hero, and that, amid the general base- 
ness and degeneracy, he could collect around him a few, at least, 
whom the Romans, whom the conquerors of mankind, might not 
have disdained to consider as their descendants. 

Some melancholy must naturally arise at the termination of this 
memorable siege, — the extinction of human glory, the distress, the 
sufferings, the parting agonies of this mistress of the world. But 
such sentiments, though in themselves neither useless nor avoidable, 
it is in vain entirely to indulge. The Grecian as well as the Roman 
Empire, and Constantinople, the last image of both, must for ever 
remain amongst the innumerable instances presented by history to 
prove that it is in vain for a state to expect prosperity in the absence 
of private and public virtue ; and that every nation, where the hon- 
orable qualities of the human character are not cultivated and re- 
spected, however fortified by ancient renown, prescriptive veneration, 
or established power, sooner or later must be levelled with the earth 
and trampled under the feet of the despoiler. 

The fall of Constantinople became, Avhen too late, a subject of the 
most universal terror and affliction to the rest of Europe. Yet such 
is the intermingled nature of all good and evil, that some benefit re- 
sulted to the world from the calamities of the Empire. Constantino- 
ple had always been the great repository of the precious remains of 
ancient genius. The Greeks had continued to pride themselves on 
their national superiority over the Barbarians of the West, and they 
celebrated, as exclusively their own, the great original masters of 
speculative wisdom and practical eloquence, the dramatists who 
could awaken all the passions of the heart, and the poets who could 
fire all the energies of the soul, — Plato and Demosthenes, Sopho- 
cles and Euripides, Pindar and Homer. But though they admired, 
they could not emulate, the models which they possessed. Century 
after century rolled away, and these inestimable treasures, however 
valued by those who inherited them, were lost to mankind. 

Yet, as the fortunes of the Greek Empire declined, the intercourse 
between Constantinople and the rest of Europe long contributed to 
the improvement of the latter ; and the splendor of the Greek learn- 
ing and philosophy, even as early as the tliirteenth century, had 
touched with a morning ray the summits of the great kingdoms of 
the West. In the public schools and universities of Italy and Spain, 
France and England, distinguished indi\'iduals, like our o^vn Bacon 
of Oxford, applied themselves with success to the study of science, 
and even of the Grecian hterature. In the fourteenth century, the 
generous emulation of Petrarch and his friends gave a distinct prom- 
ise of the subsequent revival of learning. While the Turks were 
encircling with their toils and closing round their destined prey, the 
scholars of the East were continually escapmg from the terror of 



152 LECTURE IX. 

their arms or their oppression, and, after the destruction of the me- 
tropolis of the East, it was in the West alone thej could find either 
freedom or affluence, either dignity or leisure. 

In the sack of Constantinople, amid the destruction of the libra- 
ries, one hundred and twenty thousand manuscripts are said to have 
disappeared ; but the scholars, and such of the manuscripts as es- 
caped, were transferred to a new sphere of existence, — to nations 
that were excited by a spirit of mdependence and emulation, and to 
states and kingdoms that were not retrograde and degenerating, as 
was the Empire of the Greeks. The result was favorable to the 
world. Like the idol of a pagan temple, the city of the East, 
though honored and revered by succeeding generations, was still but 
an object of worship without life or use ; when overthrown, however, 
and broken into fragments by a barbarian assailant, its riches were 
disclosed, and restored at once to activity and value. 

This great event, the revival of learning, is a subject that, from 
its importance and extent, may occupy indefinitely the liberal inquiry 
of the student. There has been an introduction to the subject, or a 
histor}^ of the more early appearance of the revival of learning, pub- 
lished in 1798, at Cadell's, which seems written by some author of 
adequate information, and which is deserving of perusal. I shall, 
hoAvever, more particularly refer you to the notices of Robertson, in 
his introduction to Charles the Fifth ; to those of Mosheim, in his 
State of Learning in the Thirteenth and Fourteenth Centuries ; 
above all, to the latter part of the fifty-third and of the sixty-sixth 
chapters of Gibbon ; and to the Lives of Lorenzo de' Medici and Leo 
the Tenth, by Mr. Roscoe. The observations and inquiries of writ- 
ers hke these will leave little to be sought after by those who con- 
sider this great event only in connection with other events, and 
attribute to it no more than its relative and philosophic importance. 
Those who wish to do more will, in the references of these eminent 
historians, find original authors and guides very amply sufficient to 
occupy and amuse the whole leisure even of a literary life. 

The leading observations on this subject will not escape your re- 
flections : that Constantinople was attacked by the Arabs in the 
seventh and eighth centuries, and might have been swept away from 
the earth by any of the various Barbarians that infested it at an 
earlier time, when her scholars and her manuscripts could have had 
no effect on the rest of mankind, and when the seeds of future im- 
provement would have fallen on a rocky soil, where no flower would 
have taken root and no vegetation quickened. It il not easy to 
determine how long the darkness of Europe might in this case have 
continued, and how little we might have known of the sages, the 
poets, and the orators of antiquity. Even the Latins themselves, 
after besieging and capturing Constantinople at the beginning of the 
thirteenth century, were in possession of the city, and of all that it 



THE REFORMATION. 153 

could boast and display, for sixty years, and in vain. Their rude 
and martial spirits were insensible to any wealth which glittered not 
in their garments or on their board ; and warriors like these could 
little comprehend the value of those intellectual treasures that can 
give tranquillity to the heart and enjo^nnent to the understanding. 
But at a still later period, Avhen the same city was once more and 
finally subdued by the Turks, the same western nations had been 
prepared for the due reception of wliat had to no purpose been placed 
within the reach of their more uncivilized forefathers ; and then fol- 
lowed what has been justly denominated the revival of learning. We 
may congratulate ourselves that the fall of the Empire was postponed 
so long, and observe on this, as on other occasions, how different is 
the effect of the same causes and events at different periods of society. 

Again, we may observe with admiration and with gratitude the 
curiosity and zeal of the human mind at tliis interesting era. The 
munificence of the patron and the labor of the scholar, the wealth of 
the great and the industry of the wise, could not then have been 
more usefully directed ; and if the readers of manuscripts are now 
more rare, if the rivals of the great scholars of the fifteenth and six- 
teenth centuries now seldom appear, and if our late Greek professor, 
the celebrated Person, for instance, could no longer see the princes 
and potentates of the earth contending for the encouragement of his 
genius, it must be remembered, that, though men like these can never 
be without their use or their admiration, much of the service which 
they offer to society has been ah-eady rendered, — that their office 
has been already, to a considerable degree, performed, — that we 
have been for some time put in possession of the great classical au- 
thors, of the models of taste and the materials of thought, — and that 
we must now labor to emvilate what sufficiently for our improvement 
we already understand. We must reflect, that, were mankind not 
to exercise their unceremonious and often somewhat unfeeling criti- 
cism upon merit of every description, and applaud it precisely to the 
extent in which it contributes to their benefit, society v/ould soon be 
retrograde, or at best but stationary, and each succeeding age would 
no longer be marked by its OAvn appropriate enlargement of the 
boundaries of human knowledge. 

A concluding observation seems to be, that an obvious alteration 
has been made in the situation of men of genius. They need no 
longer hang upon the smiles of a patron ; they need no longer debase 
the jSIuses or themselves ; the progress of human prosperity has 
given them a public who can appreciate and reward their labors ; and 
even from that public, if too slow in intellect or too poor in virtue, 
an appeal has been opened to posterity by the invention of printing ; 
and a Locke may see his volvunes stigmatized and burnt, or a Newton 
the slow progress of his reasonings, with that tranquillity which is 
the pri\ilege of genuine merit, and with that confident anticipation 
20 



151 LECTURE IX. 

of the future ■wliicli may now be the enjoyment of all those who are 
conscious that they have labored well and that they deserve to be 
esteemed the benefactors of mankind. 

But you will not long be engaged in the histories I have mentioned, 
before you will perceive, that, at the opening of the sixteenth cen- 
tury, a new and indeed fearful experiment was to be made upon man- 
kind ; a spirit not only of literary inquiry, but of religious inquiry, 
was to go forth ; the minds of men were everywhere to be agitated 
on concerns the most dear to them ; and the Church of Rome was to 
be attacked, not only in its discipline, but in its doctrine, not only in 
its practice, but in its faith. 

Opposition to the Papacy in these points, or what was then called 
heresy, had, indeed, always existed. The student will be called upon, 
as he reads the preceding history, to notice and respect the more ob- 
vious representatives of this virtuous struggle of the human mind, 
— the Albigenses, our own Wickliife and the Lollards, as well as the 
Hussites in Bohemia. But, as it was in vain that the works of literar 
ture were placed within the reach of the Franks, who first captured 
Constantinople, so the doctrines of truth and the rights of religious 
inquiry were to little purpose presented to the consideration of the 
nations of Europe by the more early Reformers ; " the light shone in 
the darkness, but the darkness comprehended it not." At the open- 
ing, however, of the sixteenth century, the condition of Europe was 
in some respects essentially improved ; and it now seemed possible 
that they who asserted the cause of the human mind in its dearest 
interests might at least obtain attention, and probably see their lauda- 
ble exertions crowned with success. 

But whatever might be the virtues or the success of distinguished 
individuals in establishing their opinions, it was but too certain that 
a reformation in the doctrines of religion could not be accomplished 
without the most serious evils ; these might be, indeed, entirely over- 
balanced by the good that was to result, but the most afflicting con- 
sequences must necessarily in the first place ensue. 

In discussing this great subject of the Reformation, — too vast to 
be properly treated but in a distinct work for the purpose, — I shall 
first endeavour briefly to show why these serious evils were to be 
expected, and then what was the benefit which it was probable might 
also accrue. In the next place, I shall endeavour to point out such 
particular transactions in the history of the Reformation as illustrate 
the representations which I shall thus make. That is, if I may ven- 
ture, for the purposes of explanation, to adopt language so assuming, 
I shall, in the remainder of this lecture, propose to your considera- 
tion the theory of the events of the Reformation ; and in the next, 
I shall endeavour to show how this theory and the facts correspond. 
Lastly, I shall mention such books and treatises as may be sufticient 
to furnish you with proper information on every part of this momen- 
tous subject. 



THE REFORMATION. 155 

Now the great reason why the most serious and extensive evils 
were to be expected from the breaking out of the Reformation was, 
first, the natural intolerance of the human mind. But this is so im- 
portant a principle in every part of the history of the Reformation, 
and the whole is so unintelligible, unless this principle be first thor- 
oughly understood, that I must consider it more at length than I 
could Avish, or than might at first sight appear necessary. It is 
necessary, however ; for no human mind, in its sound state of rea- 
sonableness and humanity, can possibly conceive the scenes that took 
place in the times of the Reformation, and even in those that pre- 
ceded and followed them ; and it is quite a problem in the science 
of human nature to account for the astonishing barbarity and even 
stupidity of which men on these occasions proved themselves to be 
capable. 

A celebrated author, Adam Smith, in the most delightful of all 
philosophical books, has referred the origin of all our moral sentiments 
to sjTnpathy. Without presuming to decide how far such a solution 
is complete, it will be readily allowed that he has fully shown how 
powerfid is the principle itself, how early and how imiversal. It 
would be strange, if it affected not, as it certainly does, the opinions 
we form and the sentiments we utter. 

Suppose a person to have taken the same view of a subject with 
ourselves, how pleased are we to observe this concurrence with our 
own decisions ! Does he speak? how agreeable is his manner ! Does 
he reason ? how solid are his arguments ! AYe admire the reasoning, 
we love the reasoner ; his thoughts are ^^^'e our thoughts, his feelings 
like our feelings ; throughout there is a j^I^asure, for throughout there 
is a sjTQpathy. Such a man has a claim on our attention, om- kind- 
ness, our friendship ; we applaud and honor him ; we wish every one 
to Usten to him, and imbibe, like ourselves, sentiments which we are 
now more than ever convinced should be entertained by all men. 

But reverse the supposition, and how different is the picture ! How 
unmeaning are the observations, how poor the arguments, of him who 
is an advocate for a cause which we disapprove ! We listen, and we 
can hear only inadmissible statements, intolerable assertions, through- 
out, — nothing but mistake, declamation, and delusion. The rear 
soncr, it seems, finds no longer an echo in our bosoms, and, giving 
us no pleasure, we declare it to be a loss of time to listen to him. 
We ([uestion his information, his ability ; proceed, perhaps, to suspect 
his motives ; suspect, indeed, any thing, but an error in our own 
judgment. It is indeed a pity, we cry, that such fallacies should be 
heard ; they may, after all, if repeated, gain ground ; men should 
not be suffered to propagate such false opinions. Surely, we con- 
clude, the cause of propriety and truth is of some consequence to the 
world, and ought by all wise and good men to be vindicated. 

From beginnings hke these, to what extent may not the muid be 



156 LECTURE IX. 

carried by contest and collision ! Wlien men speak or write, and at 
every word there is a discord, and pain at every moment given or 
received, how soon is dispute converted into dishlce, hardened into 
hatred, exasperated into rage ! What folly and what outrage may 
not be expected to ensue ! 

But any effect thus described is proportionally accelerated and in- 
creased, whenever the object of discussion either really is or can be 
supposed to be interesting and important. Now it must be observed, 
that every thing becomes interesting and important that can be 
brought into any alliance with the religious principle. This religious 
principle is in itself so natural, so just, and so respectable, that it can 
transfer its ovfn respectability to every thing which by any workings 
of the reason or of the imagination it can be made to approach. All 
the powerful and laudable feelings of our hearts are here instantly 
engaged. The opinion we adopt, the rite we perform, we conceive 
to be acceptable to the Almighty, and, being so, it is no longer within 
the proper province of the discussions of reason ; it is piety to retain, 
sinfulness to abandon it ; it is our first duty, it is our best happiness, 
to propagate it, to extend to others that favor of the Deity which it 
procures for ourselves ; but to hear it questioned, contradicted, or 
despised is to submit not only to falsehood, but to impiety, to be in- 
different to the trvith, to be recreant to our most solemn obligations, 
to refuse to vindicate the cause of heaven and of our God. 

Every motive here conspires to exasperate our sympathy and our 
judgment, our feelings and our reason, to extravagances the most 
unhmited ; the natural propensities of the human mmd to intolerance 
are here so influenced by an idea in which every other must be ab- 
sorbed, the idea of the Supreme Being, that all the common and reg- 
ular movements of the passions are overpowered, all the more ordi- 
nary suggestions of the understanding at an end ; and the man with 
his faculties yet sound and awake, with his heart still beating in his 
bosom, sees, without shuddering, a being like himself, for some diifer- 
ence in his religious creed, racked on a wheel or agonizing in flames, 
and yet can suppose that he is thus discharging an act of duty to his 
Creator and of benevolence to his fellow-creatures, — that he is con- 
forming to the precepts of religion, and approving himself an accepta- 
ble servant to the God of mercy ! 

Is human nature, then, it will be said, so totally without aid and 
direction ? Is the duty of toleration so unintelligible ? Is the truth 
on this subject so difficult to be discovered ? — The duty of toleration 
is very intelligible ; it is founded on the great axiom of all morality, 
that we are to do to others as we should think it just shovild be done 
to ourselves. There is no want of evidence in this truth ; it instantly 
finds admission to the understanding ; but truths must do much more 
than find admission to the understanding, or the conduct will not be 
affected. 



THE REFORMATION. 157 

The history of mankind hcas been a continual illustration of the 
natural intolerance of the human mind. I shall mention a few ex- 
amples. 

The most memorable instance of suffering from intolerance is that 
of our Saviour himself. It was in vain that Pilate asked the Jews, 
" ^^J, what evil hath he done ?" The only answer that could be 
obtained was, " Crucify him ! crucify him ! " A true picture of the 
nature of the human mind on these subjects at all times. 

" Which of the prophets have not your fathers persecuted ? " said 
the martyr Stephen, in his last moments of peril. To the death of 
this innocent man was Paul consenting, and he stood unmoved by the 
spectacle of his faith and sufferings. The same Paul was still exhib- 
iting the natural workings of the human mind, he was still " breathing 
out threatenings and slaughter" against the disciples, when it pleased 
the Almighty, by a particular interposition of his power, to check the 
unrighteous labors of his ardent mind, and to purify for his service a 
man worthy of a better cause, and destined to be the apostle of benev- 
olence and truth. 

The subsequent sufferings of the disciples and the early Christians 
attested, indeed, the sincerity of their own faith, but show too forci- 
bly the intolerance of the rest of mankind. The very evidence of 
our religion, in one point of vicAv, is thus measured by the measure 
of human intolerance, and might serve, if any thing could serve, as 
an^ eternal warning to those who presume to offer violence to the re- 
ligious opinions of their fellow-creatures. 

When the younger Pliny was governor of Bithynia, the Christians 
were brought before him as men who would not conform to the rites 
and ceremonies of the national worship. Two remarkable letters 
passed between him and the good Trajan on the subject, — letters 
wejl known to those who have considered the evidences of their re- 
ligion, and which exhibit a very valuable picture of the first suirges- 
tions of the human mind in concerns of this particular nature, "f he 
result, however, was, that Pliny ordered the Christians to be led out 
to execution : he had no objection, nor had the Romans, to their 
worship of Christ ; but when the Christians refused to pay homage, 
m like manner, to the gods of Rome, this sort of perverseness, says 
Pliny, was evidently a crime, and deserving of condign punishment ; 
that IS, when the religious opinions of the Christian appeared to be 
m chrect opposition to his own, these opinions were to be put do\\Ti by 
torce. "^ 

_ The ancients have been sometimes represented as tolerant, but this 
is lightly said ; they were never put to any trial of the kind ; from 
the nature of their polytheism, they never could be. Had Phny been 
questioned at the time by a man more enlightened than himself, he 
woukl, no doubt, have made the answer which others, with less excuse 
tlian 1 hny, have but too frequently offered : that it was one thing to 

N 



158 LECTURE IX. 

allow the Christians to sacrifice to Christ, and another thing to allow 
them to contradict the religion of the state ; that he was ready to 
permit them to worship the Deity according to their owa notions, 
but that it was impossible to suffer them to destroy the faith of others ; 
and that he could see a clear distinction between toleration in religion 
and indifference to true religion. 

The necessity of free inquiry, as a means of attaining to truth, — 
the equal eye with which the great Creator, it must be presumed, 
will survey the sincere, though varying, efforts of his creatures in 
pursuit of it, — the injustice of doing to the Christians what he, as a 
Christian, would think unreasonable and cruel, — topics of this ob- 
vious nature would have been offered to the consideration of Pliny, 
probably, with the same ill success wliich has accompanied them on 
every occasion, when the rights of religion and humanity have been 
pleaded. 

Can two contradictory opinions, says the pious man, be equally 
true ? — May they not, it may be answered, may they not be equally 
accepted by the Almighty Father, if offered to him with equal sin- 
cerity and humility of spirit, and after the same petitions for his 
grace and assistance ? But, at all events, it is not for human beings 
to attempt to propagate truth by force. 

From the time of Pliny to the establishment of Christianity under 
Constantino, from Constantino to the establishment of the Papal 
power, from that fatal event to the destruction of Constantinople, the 
Christian world was rent into divisions, each in its turn persecuting 
the other. The student may see in the pages of Gibbon the dis- 
graceful and often bloody hostilities of contending sects ; and he will 
much more easily comprehend the guilt of the rival disputants than 
the subjects of their imchristian animosity. 

I do not detain you with any allusions to particular passages in 
Gibbon, in Mosheim, or in any other ecclesiastic historian. You will 
read them yourselves ; and this is one of the many occasions that 
will occur in the delivery of these lectures, where I am obhged to de- 
spatch in a single sentence a mass of reading that may afterwards 
very properly occupy you for many days and weeks. It is sufficient 
for me, at present, that I may safely assume the general fact, that 
the specimens of the natural intolerance of the human mind to be 
found in such writers are perfectly innumerable. 

We have hitherto spoken, first, of the intolerance of the Jews to 
the early Christians ; afterwards, of the pagans to the followers of 
Christ ; lastly, of the Christians to each other. But as we descend 
through the history of Europe, we shall next have to observe 
how lamentable and totally unrelenting have been the persecutions 
which the Christians have in their turn exercised upon the Jews. To 
speak literally and ^rithout a figure, this unhappy race seems not to 
have been considered by our ancestors as within the pale of hu- 



THE REFORMATION. 159 

manity ; and our great poet, who drew mankind just as he found 
them, puts into the mouth of Shylock a train of reasoning that pro- 
ceeds upon this dreadful supposition: — " Hath not a Jew eyes ? hath 
not a Jew hands ? " &c., &c. " Fed with the same food, warmed 
and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is ? " 

As we descend to times a little later, we at length perceive even 
a regular tribunal created for the avowed purposes of persecution, — 
the tribunal of the Inquisition. And who, let us ask, was among its 
earliest approvers ? Louis the Ninth of France, the most generous 
and just of men. 

And here I pause ; it cannot be necessary that I should proceed 
any farther. Calhng, therefore, to mind what we have passed 
throuirh in this brief review, and what we before endeavoured to 
show, I may now finally observe, that such appear to me, in the 
first place, the explanation and the theory of the natural intolerance 
of every human mind on every subject, and more particularly on 
religious subjects ; and such, in the second place, the leading facts 
of history to exemplify this last intolerance on religious subjects, 
prior to the time of the Reformation. At that epoch, therefore, man- 
kind had very fully exhibited their real nature ; and it was very 
evident, if differences in religious opinions were to arise, how afflict- 
ing would be the consequences. 

But it must have been clear, in the next place, that such differ- 
ences must arise ; for the spirit of religious inquiry was to be called 
into action : and upon what was it to be exercised ? Upon the 
Scriptures themselves, and upon the works of the Fathers, — writ- 
ings composed m what to the inquirers were dead languages. 

Now, whenever the human mind exercises its powers with free- 
dom, different men will take different views of the same subject ; 
they will draw different conclusions, even where the materials pre- 
sented to their judgment are the same. Not only this, but in points 
of rehgious doctrine, from the very awfulness of the subject, the 
mind scarcely presumes to exercise its faculties ; and in these dis- 
quisitions men have no longer the chance, whatever it may be, which 
they have on other subjects, of arguing themselves into agreement. 

Again, the endence wliich the Reformers had to produce to each 
other for their respective opinions was their respective interpretation 
of one or many different texts of Scripture, of one or many different 
passages in the writings of the Fathers. Now of all such evidence 
it must be observed, that it never, from the very nature of it, could 
be demonstrative. In mathematical questions, where the relations 
of quantity are alone concerned, a dispute can be completely termi- 
nated ; because from wrong premises or false reasoning a contradic- 
tion can be at last shown to result ; some impossibiUty appears, — 
the greater is equal to the less, or the less to the greater. The 
same may be said of many parts of the sciences ; because a question 



160 LECTURE IX. 

can here always be asked -which admits of a precise answer, and is, 
at the same time, decisive of the contest, — What is the fact ? — 
what says the experiment ? 

But when a question is to depend on the interpretation of texts 
and passages in Scripture, the case is totally altered ; for, of the 
difiFerent meanings that can be affixed, no one can be shown to be, 
strictly speaking, impossible. They may be shown to be more or 
less reasonable, but no more : the scale of e^^dence here is reason- 
ableness ; metaphysically speaking, is probability. Men cannot be 
proved in these, as in mathematical disquisitions, to be totally right 
or totally wrong ; they cannot be left at once without an argument 
or without an opponent. A reasoner on such subjects may, from 
inferiority of judgment, or what is called perversity of judgment, or 
any other cause, adopt that meaning which is the less sound and just 
of any two that may be proposed to him ; but if he does, he can 
never, by any consequent impossibility, be absolutely compelled to 
admit the more reasonable opinion of his opponent. 

It is very true that this probable e\-idence is sufficient for men to 
reason and act upon ; but it is not sufficient to preclude the possibil- 
ity of dispute ; and this is all that is here contended for. When the 
nature of the evidence is this of probability, the varying powers of 
judgTQent and the ready passions of mankmd have fuU liberty to 
interfere ; men may be more or less reasonable, as these causes 
direct. No such interference is possible in discussions that concern 
matters of experiment and fact, and the relations of quantity. We 
have, therefore, no sects or parties in mathematics, but they abound 
in every other department of human opinion. 

We have now, therefore, to present to the consideration of the 
student two observations ; they are these : not only, in the first 
place, that the human mind was naturally intolerant ; but that, in 
the second place, the evidence that could be laid before it never, 
from the nature of it, could be demonstrative ; and that, therefore, 
this intolerance had full opportunity to act. 

But there is yet another observation to be made. It was not only 
that disputes could not be necessarily terminated, even when exer- 
cised upon the great and proper topics of debate, but it was clear, 
both from the nature of the human mind and from the testimony of 
history, that men, when awakened to the consideration of religious 
subjects, would assuredly engage in the most subtile metaphysical 
inquiries, and, by theu' vain efforts to know and to teach more than 
the Scriptures had taught them, or than, it may be presumed, the 
Almighty Creator mtended their faculties to comprehend, would 
involve themselves and their followers in disputes which it would be 
more than ever impossible to set at rest by reasoning, and wliich, on 
that very account, would be only the more calculated to exasperate 
their passions. 



THE REFORMATION. 161 

In addition to these considerations, there is another: we must 
reflect on the situation of the world at this particular epoch. Europe 
had, no doubt, improved during several of the preceding centuries, 
and -was even rapidly improving at the time. But it must still be 
noted, that literature had made as yet little progress, science still 
less ; men had not been softened by the fine arts, and the peacefiJ 
pleasures which they afford ; they had not been humanized by much 
intercourse with each other ; martial prowess was their virtue ; super- 
stitious observances their religion. In this situation, they were on a 
sudden to have their passions roused and their intellectual talents 
exercised upon subjects which require to their adjustment all the 
virtues and all the improvement of which the hvmian character is 
capable. On these accounts the prospect for mankind on the opening 
of the Reformation was very awful ; it was endent much misery must 
result from the natural intolerance of the mind, from the materials 
with wliich that intolerance was now to be supphed, and from the 
general ignorance and rudeness of society. 

But there was yet another consideration to be taken into account. 
"We have hitherto endeavoured to estimate the evils to which the 
breaking out of the Refoi-mation would give occasion, by stating its 
more natural and appropriate effects upon the human mind ; but the 
religious principle which was thus to be awakened Avas sure to inter- 
mingle itself in all earthly concerns ; it was sure to give names to 
parties, to multiply afresh the causes of irritation and offence, and to 
add new restlessness and motion to the poUtics of the world. 

Again, there was even an inherent and inevitable diihculty in the 
subject, by whatever unexpected influence of moderation and reason 
mankmd had chosen to be controlled. The Roman hierarchy were 
the spiritual instructors of the people, and as such had ecclesiastical 
revenues. But it was evident, that, if there arose a set of men who 
disinited the doctrines of that hierarchy, these last would no longer 
think it reasonable that such revenues should be so applied ; they 
would represent them as devoted only to the unrighteous purposes of 
superstition and error ; they would insist upon at least a share, if not 
the whole, for the support of themselves, while engaged in the propar 
gation of truth and genuine Chiistianity. The established teachers 
would, therefore, be disturbed in their possessions, deprived of their 
benefices, some perhaps thrown naked and defenceless into the world 
at advanced periods of age and infirmity. Such mutations of prop- 
erty, it was but too clear, could neither be attempted nor executed 
without violence ; and violence, so exercised, could not but be at- 
tended by the most furious animosities, disturbance, and calamity. 

Again, when these revenues had been converted to the support of 

the first reformed preachers, these were likely to be in their turn 

opposed by new and succeeding descriptions of religious inquirers ; 

the same reasoning would, therefore, again be urged, the same strug- 

21 N* 



162 LECTURE IX. 

gle be repeated, the same force he employed. On the whole, there- 
fore, statesmen and prmces and warriors were sure, from the first, 
to be engaged in all these disputes, and to kindle in the general 
flame ; and the controversies of religion were sure to be decided, like 
the ordinary contests of mankind, by the sword, — by the sword, 
indeed, but amid a conflict of passions rendered more than ever blind 
and sanguinary from the materials which were now added of more 
than human obstinacy, intrepidity, and rancor. 

Such were the evils that were to be expected at the breaking out 
of the Reformation, from the intolerance of men, from the nature of 
the evidence that could be produced to them in their new subjects of 
dispute, from the particular metaphysical turn which these disputes 
would probably take, from the unimproved state of society in Europe, 
from the intermixture of the earthly politics of the world with religious 
concerns, and from the mevitable and difiicult question of the disposal 
of the ecclesiastical revenues. 

But what was, then, the benefit that mankind were hkely to receive 
which might compensate for the evils to which they were to be thus 
exposed ? The benefit that it was probable would result was above 
all price ; it was this : that they who disputed the doctrines of the 
Romish Church, however they might for a time appeal to the Pope 
or general councils, must at length appeal to the Bible itself; that 
the sacred text would be, therefore, examined, criticized, and under- 
stood ; that, however violent or unjust the force which the hierarchy 
or the civil magistrate might attempt to exercise, still, as the human 
mind was capable of the steadiest resistance, when animated by the 
cause of truth, — as men were equal to the contempt of imprison- 
ment, tortures, or death, for the sake of their religious opinions, — 
as history had borne sufiicient testimony to the exalted constancy of 
our nature in these respects, — that, therefore, the Reformers must 
in all probability succeed in establishing a purer faith, and must at 
all events contribute to improve both the doctrines and the conduct 
of their opponents ; that, from the general fermentation which would 
ensue, it could not but happen that the Bible would be opened, — that 
doctrines would no longer be taken upon authority, — that religion 
would no longer consist so much in vain ceremonies and passive igno- 
rance, — that devotion would become a reasonable sacrifice, — and 
that the Gospel would, in fact, be a second time promulgated to an 
erring and sinful world. 

Now what further benefit might attend this emancipation of the 
human mind from its spiritual thraldom it might have been difficult 
at the time properly to estimate. But this new gift of Christianity 
to mankind was a blessing in itself sufiicient to outweigh all temporal 
calamities, of whatever extent. To be the humble instruments, under 
Divine Providence, of imparting such a benefit to the world was the 
virtuous ambition, the pious hope, of the early Reformers. It was 



THE REFORMATION. 1G3 

this that gave such activity to their exertions, such inflexibilitj to 
their fortitude. This sacred ardor, this holy energy, in the cause of 
religious truth, is the remaining principle which, in conjunction with 
those I have mentioned, will be found to have actuated mankind dur- 
ing the ages we are now to consider. As the principles before men- 
tioned gave occasion to all that was dark and afflicting in the scene, 
so did the principle noiv mentioned give occasion to all that was bright 
and cheering and elevating to the soul ; united, they may serve, when 
followed up through their remote as well as immediate effects, to ex- 
plain, as I conceive, the events of the Reformation, and for some ages 
all the more important part of the history of Europe. 



LECTURE X. 



THE REFORMATION. 



I ENDEAVOURED in my last lecture to describe the evils to which 
mankind would probably be exposed by any attempts to produce the 
reformation of religion, and the benefits by which such evils were 
hkely to be overbalanced. I must now consider how far, in pouit of 
fact, such e^'ils and such benefits were really experienced. 

And here it is necessary for me to remind you of one of the diffi- 
culties which I announced to you in my introductory lecture, as more 
particularly belonging to all lectures on history, — the impossibihty 
that a lecturer must find of presenting to his hearer all that has 
passed in review before his own mind, and the blank that must there- 
fore be left, till the subsequent diligence of the student has furnished 
him with the same materials of judgment which the lecturer had be- 
fore him. Thus, in the present instance, the opinions which w^ere 
presented to your reflection in the lecture of yesterday were sug- 
gested by a vast assemblage of facts, an assemblage which in reality 
constitutes the history of the Reformation. How, then, are these to 
be presented to you ? The history cannot be given here, nor any 
part of it ; a few allusions and references are all the expedients I can 
have recourse to. These will at present convey to your minds little 
that can operate upon them in the way of evidence, but you must 
consider them as specimens of evidence ; you must recollect that 
nothing more can be now attempted, and you must be contented with 
expecting to find, as you certainly will find hereafter, when you come 
to read the history for yourselves, that the general import of the facts 



164 LECTURE X. 

has not been misrepresented, and that the theories I have proposed 
might have been very amply illustrated, if the proper incidents and 
transactions could have been conveniently exhibited to your consider- 
ation. 

Thus, first, with respect to the effects which I conceived could not 
but result from the natural intolerance of the human mind. Of this 
the proof will hereafter appear to you but too complete. It will be 
even visible to a considerable degree in the lectures which I shall 
have next to deliver, on the religious wars, — the wars that accom- 
panied and followed the progress of the Reformation. But in the 
mean time, I can only refer you to the testimony of the historians 
who remark upon this particular point, while writing under the im- 
mediate impression of all the transactions which they have had occar 
sion to relate. I shall produce, as one of the most unobjectionable 
that can be mentioned, the judgment that has been delivered by 
Robertson. 

" The Roman Catholics," says Robertson, " as their system rested 
on the decisions of an infallible judge, never doubted that truth was 
on their side, and openly called on the civil power to repel the im- 
pious and heretical innovators who had risen up against it. The 
Protestants, no less confident that their doctrine was well founded, 
required, with equal ardor, the princes of their party to check such 
as presumed to impugn or to oppose it. Luther, Calvin, Cranmer, 
Knox, the foimders of the Reformed Church in their respective coun- 
tries, inflicted, as far as they had power and opportunity, the same 
punishments which were denounced against their own disciples by the 
Church of Rome, upon such as called in question any article in their 
creeds. To their followers, and perhaps to their opponents, it would 
have appeared a symptom of diffidence in the goodness of their cause, 
or an acknowledgment that it was not well founded, if they had not 
employed in its defence all those means which it was supposed truth 
had a right to employ." 

This passage from Robertson I conceive to be in the main just, 
though I think Luther might have been favorably distinguished from 
Calvin and others. There are passages in his writings, with regard 
to the interference of the magistrate in religious concerns, that do 
him honor ; but he was favorably situated, and lived not to see the 
temporal sword at his command. He was never tried. 

The language of other historians is similar to that of Robertson, 
but in general more strong. I need not detain my hearers with de- 
tailing to them those passages in their account which must necessarily 
be met with in the course of any regular perusal of their narratives. 
I shall, however, enumerate a few instances taken from different 
periods and different countries. 

One of the most early and noted of the Reformers was Huss. He 
was burnt to death by the Nominalists at the council of Constance. 



THE REFORMATION. 165 

But it must be observed, that, when he had been himself " dressed 
in a little brief authority," he had persecuted the Nominalists to the 
utmost of his power, because he was himself a Realist, These terms 
are known to those who have engaged in metaphysical inquiries, and 
to those only ; and if explained, would show, what need not be 
shown, that intolerance is never at a loss for materials. 

By the execution of Huss and Jerome of Prague, the heroic 
Ziska had been driven into such paroxysms of indignation and gloom, 
that he was at last observed by Wenceslaus, and encouraged to ex- 
cite his countrymen to resist and punish these unprincipled persecu- 
tors and destroyers of their fellow-creatures. But a few years after- 
wards we find from Mosheim that he himself fell upon the Beghards, 
a miserable set of fanatics, putting some to the sword, and condemn- 
ing the rest to the flames, because he gave full credit, probably with- 
out any proper exammation, to the charges that had been brought 
against them of some immoral practices. Yet must Ziska be con- 
sidered as a hero, in the best sense of the word, and memorable in 
history for virtue as well as talents and intrepidity. 

Calvin, too, must be thought a man of religion and goodness, ac- 
cording to his o^vn melancholy notions of religion and goodness. Yet 
could this celebrated Reformer, as is well known, cause Servetus to 
be condemned to death for heresy ; and because the unhappy man 
had reitei'ated his shrieks, when condemned, at the very idea of the 
fire in which he was to perish, Calvin could find, when writing in the 
retirement of his closet, a subject not only for his comment, but his 
censure, and even his ridicule (at least, his contempt), in these 
afflicting agonies of aifrighted nature. 

Francis the First, who united all the softer virtues, at least, to all 
the honorable and gallant feelings of a gentleman and a soldier, 
could, however, declare, in a pubhc assembly (I quote the words of 
the historian), " that, if one of his hands were infected with heresy, 
he would cut it off witli the other, and would not spare even his own 
children, if found guilty of that crime" ; and immediately after, six 
of his subjects who had libelled the Roman Church were publicly 
burnt, " with circumstances," says the historian, " of the most shock- 
ing barbarity attending their execution." Francis, it will be said, was 
no religionist ; yet he lived upon the applause of men generous and 
intrepid like himself; he prided himself upon his sincerit}^, and what 
he said must have been the genuine effusion of his own mind, and 
equally the echo of the general sentiment. 

Men like these may be thought warm and impetuous in their 
nature ; but what are we to say of our own Sir Thomas More ? 
"What man so amiable in his manners, so invincible in his integrity, 
so gentle, so accomplished ? Yet does this man take his place 
among the persecutors who disgrace the pages of history. In Fox's 
Book of Martyrs he leads up the ranks where Bonner and other 



166 LECTURE X. 

dreadful men are afterwards so distinguished. " As soon as More 
came into favor," says Burnet, in his History of the Reformation, 
" he pressed the king much to put the laws against heretics in ex- 
ecution, and suggested that the court of Rome would be more 
wrought upon by the king's supporting the Church and defending 
the faith vigorously than by threatenings." 

The most eminent person who suffered about this time was Thomas 
Bilney. " More," says Burnet, " not being satisfied to have sent 
the writ for his burning, studied also to defame him." In Decem- 
ber, one John Tewksbury was taken and tried in Sir Thomas More's 
house, where sentence was given against him by Stokesley, the 
Chancellor's assistant in this work of blood, and he was burnt in 
Smithfield. " James Bainham, a gentleman of the Temple, was 
carried," says Burnet (I quote his w^ords), " to the Lord Chancel- 
lor's house, where much pains was taken to persuade him to dis- 
cover such as he knew in the Temple who favored the new opinions ; 
but, fair means not prevailing. More made him be whipped in his own 
presence, and after that sent him to the Tower, where he looked on 
and saw him put to the rack." At last he was burnt in Smithfield. 
" There were also some others burnt," says Burnet, " a little before 
this time, of Avhom a particular account could not be recovered by 
Fox, with all his industry. But with Bainham, More's persecution 
ended ; for soon after, he laid down the great seal, which set the 
poor preachers at ease." Such are the words of Burnet. 

The lectures that you are now hstening to, on the Reformation, 
were drawn up by me more than twenty years ago. Lately there 
has been pubhshed a Life of Sir Thomas More by Sir James JMack- 
intosh. It is very consoling to tliink that Sir James has been able 
to rescue the fame of More from any charge of positive cruelty, and 
even from materially forgetting the sentiments of mercy and justice 
which nature and reflection had implanted m his bosom. More says 
positively, in his Apology, " Of all that ever came in my hand for 
heresy, as help me God,* had never any of them any stripe or stroke 
given them, so much as a fillip on the forehead" ; and again, that 
he never did examine any with torments. The date of the work in 
which More denies the charge was 1533, " after that he had given over 
the office of Lord Chancellor," and was in daily expectation of being 
committed to the Tower. The book is entitled, " The Apology of 
Sir Thomas More." Defenceless and obnoxious as he was, no one 
disputed its truth. Fox was the first who, thirty years afterwards, 

* Professoi- Smyth quotes, not directly from More himself, but from his biographer, 
Sir James Mackintosh, who here omits a cinalifying clause, which may be regarded, 
perhaps, as of some importance. The entire passage in the original is as follows : — 
" And of al that euer came in my hand for heresye, as helpe me God, sauing as I said 
the sure keeping of them, and yet not so sure neither, but that George Costa tine could 
stele awaye : els had neuer any of the any stripe or stroke giue the, so muche as a 
fvlvppe on the forehead." Worlces of Sir Thomas More (folio, London, 1557), pp. 901, 
902. — N. 



THE REFORMATION. 1G7 

ventured to oppose it in statements which we know to be in some 
respects inaccurate. His charges are copied by Burnet, and, with 
considerable hesitation, by Strype. Burnet never could have seen 
Sir Thomas More's Apology. As More died to maintain his veraci- 
ty, his assertion must be believed. 

Of all the Reformers, the most exemplary for the mildness of his 
temperainent was Melancthon ; yet JNIelancthon could approve and 
justifv the conduct of Calvin in his atrocious punishment of Servetus. 

What man, all his difficulties considered, more estimable — at 
least, what man less fitted by nature for intolerance — than Cran- 
mer ? Yet, when Joan of Kent had pronounced some opinion which 
was judged heretical, concerning the mystery of the Incarnation, 
she was, by the sentence of a commission where Cranmer presided, 
adjudged a heretic, and " delivered over," as it was called, " to 
the secular power," — that is, sent to be murdered at the stake by fire. 

The youth of the king, Edward the Sixth, had not as yet admit- 
ted of a sufficient progress in the doctrines of intolerance. He 
could not be prevailed on to sign the warrant. " He thought it," 
says the historian, " a piece of cruelty too like that which they had 
condemned in Papists, to burn any for their consciences." Cranmer 
was employed to reason away, if possible, the sentiments of mercy 
and justice. He argued and refined, and produced his authorities ; 
but his reasons, says Burnet, " did rather silence than satisfy the 
young king, who still thought it a hard thing (as in truth it was) to 
proceed so severely in such cases ; so he set his hand to the warrant 
with tears in his eyes, saying to Cranmer, that if he did wrong, since 
it was in submission to his authority, he should answer for it to God." 
The archbishop paused ; he might well pause. Some effect had been 
produced by the humane terror and artless sensibility of his youthful 
sovereign, and the horror of the scene that was to ensue had been 
presented to the imagination at least, if not to the understanding, of 
Cranmer. The sentence was delayed, was suspended for a year ; 
but was at last executed. 

It is surely remarkable, that, under such favorable circumstances, 
the principles of toleration seem never to have occurred either to 
Cranmer or to Ridley. They sent for the unfortunate woman imme- 
diately after the conference with the king, not to dismiss her with 
their advice, but to persuade her to recant, — to save her, if possi- 
ble, from being the proper object, as they conceived, of their pun- 
ishment. Their humanity and good sense, for they possessed both, 
could see no farther into this subject ; and as the woman was not 
less attached to what she thought the truth than tliey were them- 
selves, it is probable that they conceived there was no alternative 
but to put her to death. 

Two years after, one George Van Pare, being accused for some 
heretical opinion concerning another of the mysteries, was con- 
demned in the same manner, and burnt in Smithfield. 



168 LECTURE X. 

The Papists observed, says the historian, " that the Reformers were 
only against burning when they were in fear of it themselves." Cran- 
mer was said by them to have consented to the death both of Lam- 
bert and Anne Askew. These instances were appealed to in Queen 
Mary's time to justify a retaliation of persecution, — to justify a rep- 
etition of proceedings that are as degrading for their stupidity as 
they are horrible for their cruelty. It is even contended, though 
unnecessarily, that Edward the Sixth was himself thinking only of 
the eternal happiness of the unhappy woman who was to be burnt, 
which he thought would be endangered, if she died a heretic ; and 
that he was not thinking of her earthly sufferings. But if so, if even 
his gentle and youthful nature could be insensible to the claims of 
humanity in its practical application to this life, how much stronger 
is the general reasoning now insisted upon ! 

Now, to forget for a moment all the pages of ecclesiastical his- 
tory, — to mention neither the persecution of the Christians by the 
heathens, nor of the Christians by each other, — not to anticipate 
what remains yet to be told of Philip the Second and Catherine de 
Medicis, or of minor instances of persecution, such as the deprivation 
of benefices, and the imprisonment and exile of each sect in its turn, — 
let the student pause and meditate on the nature of such men as have 
been mentioned : Pliny, Louis the Ninth, before the Reformation, — 
Melancthon, and Cranmer, and Ridley, after the Reformation. If 
there be any characters in history that in every other respect but 
this of intolerance are the ornaments of their nature, they are these. 
If these are not favorable specimens of mankind, none can be found : 
vigorous in their understandings, cultivated in their minds, gentle in 
their nature, conversant with the world and its business, refined, and 
pure, and perfect, as far as in this sublunary state perfection can be 
found. These are certainly most awful lessons. 

I cannot enter into any discussion of the different degrees of in- 
tolerance which different sects have exhibited. It is possible, it 
might naturally be expected, that the Protestant would be less deeply 
criminal than the Roman Catholic, or rather the Papist ; but I can- 
not now stay to appreciate this relative criminality, or point out its 
causes. I speak of the guilt of all, — of mankind, of human nature, 
of the inherent intolerance of the human heart, be the bosom in which 
it beats of whatever character or description, Pagan or Christian, 
Protestant or Roman Catholic. 

IMuch improvement has, no doubt, taken place in society on this 
momentous subject, — much since the first breaking out of the Refor- 
mation. As in the solitude of the prophet Elijah, the Lord passed 
by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, but he was not 
in the Avind ; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not 
in the earthquake ; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was 
not in the fire ; and after the fire a still small voice, and the Lord 



THE REFORMATION. 169 

was in that voice : so in the solitude of the human mind, from the 
moment that the spirit of religious inquiry had reached it, and the 
Lord had passed by, the visitations of intolerance succeeded, and 
there has been the dispute of the polemic, and the embattled field of 
the warrior, and the stake of the persecutor, — the wind, and the 
earth([uake, and the fire, — and the Lord was not in these ; and at 
last the mild and benevolent precepts of the Gospel, the still small 
voice, has been slowly heard, and it is perceived that the Lord is in 
that voice. Blessed be the God of mercy, that thus far an advance- 
ment in religion, a new reformation, has been at length accomplished ! 
It is no longer supposed that to persecute is to please God ; the 
rights of conscience are acknowledged at least, and there is here 
some hope and some victory over the powers of darkness. 

The misfortune still is, tliat men honor the doctrines of toleration 
with their lips, while they seem not aware that their heart is far from 
them. The principles of intolerance, that is, the principles of their 
nature, still maintain their hold, though they may be awed, and 
tamed, and civilized, and reduced to assume forms less frightful and 
destructive, in these later ages. Uncharitable insinuations, mutual 
accusations, mutual contempt and ignorance of the arguments and 
tenets of each other, these, in both the superior and inferior sects, 
have supplied the place of the virulence and fury of earlier times ; 
and unnecessary exclusions, penal laws, and civil disabilities are now 
the milder representatives of their horrible predecessors, the dimgeon 
and the stake. 

These paragraphs were written twenty years ago, and a most im- 
portant amelioration of the situation of inferior sects has been since 
accomphshed. 

I must now recur to the second observation which I proposed to 
your consideration. It was this : not only that disputes would neces- 
sarily arise from the particular constitution of the human mind, but 
that, from the very nature of the evidence on which points of doctrine 
must necessarily rest, they never could be expected to appear exactly 
terminated ; that this evidence could never, as in mathematical sub- 
jects, be demonstrative ; that it might be fitted to convince a candid 
inquirer after truth, but could never bear down the mind and insuper- 
ably extort conviction. The history of the Reformation, like all prior 
ecclesiastical history, confirms this remark. 

No efforts of princes or divines could ever produce a uniformity of 
reUgion. The contrariety of opinion even between Luther and Zuin- 
glius, the great Swiss Reformer, was found irremediable. In vain 
were these venerable men (surely no ordinary inquirers after truth) 
brought together to accommodate their differences, and accompanied 
by the most eminent of their followers. After a conference of four 
days, " their dissension," says Mosheim, " concerning the manner of 
Christ's presence in the Eucharist still remained, nor could either of 
22 



170 LECTURE X. 

the contending parties be persuaded to abandon or even to modify 
their opinion of that matter." (Mosh., Vol. IV. p. 76.) — The real 
fact was, that Luther even hazarded, as far as human conduct could 
hazard, the success of the Reformation itself, because he could not 
be brought to comprehend within the general confederacy the follow- 
ers of Zuinglius and Bucer. — Vol. IV. p. 98. 

Again, at the diet of Augsburg, the Reformers exhibited the 
articles of their faith, to which the Romanists replied. " Various 
conferences," says Mosheim, " were held between persons of emi- 
nence, piety, and learning ; nothing was omitted that might have the 
least tendency to calm the animosity, heal the divisions, and unite 
the hearts of the contending parties ; but all to no purpose, since the 
difference," says the historian, " between their opinions was too con- 
siderable and of too much importance to admit of a reconciliation." 
(Vol. IV. p. 96.) — It is possible that the difference might be con- 
siderable and important, as the historian here describes ; but the re- 
sult would have been the same, had it been otherwise. 

Again, the Emperor Charles the Fifth pubUshed a system, called 
the Interim, Avhich he fondly imagined, as being a medium between 
the two parties, might be acceded to by both. The Pope Avas sur- 
prised that a man who knew the world like Charles should indulge 
for a moment so vain a delusion ; and observed, that it was unneces- 
sary to disturb himself about the success of a project which, not be- 
longing to any party, would be neglected by all, and soon forgotten : 
and such, indeed, was the event. 

Again, at a conference at Worms, between persons of learning 
and piety, Eckius and the excellent Melancthon disputed during 
the space of three days ; but this conference, says Mosheim, pro- 
duced no other effect than a reference to a general council. — Vol. 
IV. p. 107. 

The student, as he peruses the volumes of Mosheim on the prog- 
ress of the Reformation through different countries, will see instan- 
ces like these only multiplied as he proceeds ; and it will be natural 
for him to conclude that a fate not very dissimilar will attend the 
efforts of learned men, whenever they are employed, not in contend- 
ing, as were the first Reformers, for the opening of the Bible and the 
freedom of religious opinion, but for the particular doctrines by which 
their sects and churches are distinguished. An unprejudiced in- 
quirer may be convinced by their reasonings, but their reasonings 
will be lost upon each other. The celebrated History of the Council 
of Trent, by Father Paul, may be referred to ; the book is now 
valuable chiefly on this very account. Let the student open it 
wherever he chooses ; let him consider the nature of such subjects, 
and the nature of the human mind, — the abstruseness of the one, and 
the manner in which the operations of the other are always prompted, 
or at least modified, by the influence of the feelings ; and he will then 



THE REFORMATION. 171 

no longer, like the vulgar, stand amazed to see that the learned and 
the Avise can dispute so much and decide so little. 

My third observation was, that it might be expected that the dis- 
putes of mankind would immediately involve them in the most inex- 
tricable labyrinths of metaphysical subtilty, and that most serious 
evils must inevitably be the consequence. 

Before the time of the Reformation, the religious animosities of man- 
kind had always turned on speculative points of doctrine ; they did so 
afterwards. The first Reformers had scarcely attacked with success 
such doctrines and corruptions of the Church of Rome as were more 
or less destructive of morality and real religion, but they plunged 
into discussions of the most mysterious and impenetrable nature. 
This will be but too obvious to those who read even the history of the 
Reformation ; it will be only the more obvious to those who make them- 
selves acquainted with the theological Avritings of the Reformers. 

The celebrated book written by Father Paul, the History of the 
Council of Trent, may be again referred to ; it may serve as a gen- 
eral specimen of this part of the subject. It may not be possible to 
read the whole of it, but of the eight books which constitute the 
work, the second more particularly, and the latter part of the eighth, 
should at least be read. Observation should be made on the nature 
of those Protestant tenets which were drawn out for examination, or 
rather for condemnation, by the Roman Catholic Fathers. Their 
abstruse nature will be very apparent, and the reader cannot but be 
reminded of the controversial discussions that he has before seen in 
ecclesiastical history. The tendency, therefore, of theological inqui- 
ries and disquisitions to run into the speculations of metaphysical di- 
vinity is thus visible, both before and after the Reformation, and may 
now be considered as quite a characteristic of the human mind. 

I observed, too, that disputes of this nature were not the more 
likely, on account of their real difficulty, to be treated with calm- 
ness and pronounced upon with hesitation, but that the contrary 
would be the event ; and that these very points of difficulty were 
those for which men would contend with the greater fury, and on 
which they would decide with the more ready dogmatism. 

Now, on looking at the history of the Reformation, abundant 
evidence will be found to substantiate this assertion. By whatever 
mysterious abstractions, by whatever controversial subtilties, by 
whatever unaccountable observances and ceremonies the faith of any 
sect was distinguished, followers were never wanting to glory in 
those particular characteristics of discipline or doctrine, — for the 
sake of tliem to submit to any privations, to march to battle, to lan- 
guish in imprisonment, or to expire in the flames. 

The great orator of Rome was compelled to sigh over the inanity 
of all human contentions. Something of a similar sentiment may, 
perhaps, pass across the mind, when we survey the volumes of the 



172 LECTURE X. 

Council of Trent, tlie monument of the unavailing warfare of the 
learning and ability of the times ; but we may sigh more deeply, 
when we consider, that, among the thousands and the ten thousands 
that suffered persecution and death, most of them were guilty_ only 
of some supposed error m speculative doctrine, of taking the literal 
or figurative sense of some passages in Scripture, of interpreting a 
text^iu a mamier different from its accepted sense, or of drawing 
from a comparison of several texts a different conclusion from that 
which they were understood to warrant. The real_ presence in the 
Eucharist, for instance, was the great point on which the hves of 
men depended. The student should by aU means turn to Fox's 
Book of Martyrs ; let him look at the doctrines, for the affirmation 
or denial of wliich, men, and even women, were thrown into the 
flames ; particularly, let him look at the disputation held before 
Henry the Eighth ; and again by Cranmer, Latimer, and Ridley, at 
Oxford : he will see, and, if he is inexperienced in such subjects, 
he will see with astonishment, the preposterous manner in which 
logic and metaphysics were made the ceremonies that preceded the 
execution and agonies of these eminent martyrs. Let him consider, 
agam, what were the reasons for wliich Cranmer himself had before 
tied his victims to the stake. I do not detail the points upon which 
the prelate disputed, or the reasons for which he put an unhappy 
woman and an inoffensive foreigner to death. They are to be found, 
the first in Fox, the second m Bui-net. I cannot detail to you par- 
ticulars of this nature. 

Lideed, one of the difficulties I encoimter at tins moment, and in 
many other parts of this lecture, is the impropriety of quoting, in 
any manner, however concise, any portion of the records or books to 
which I allude. The reason is this : — In the course of such trans- 
actions as I have to mention, the most mysterious terms of our re- 
hgion were brought forward, examined, analyzed, and made the sub- 
jects of the most subtile and perplexmg disquisitions and disputes. 
This was, indeed, the very manner in which the piety of our ances- 
tors unfortunately displayed itself during these smgular ages. A due 
sense of religion with lis takes a different, and surely a more reason- 
able direction ; and the awful reserve which it prescribes, in every 
public allusion to such sacred subjects, and to the mysteries of our 
faith, — the Incarnation, for instance, — it can be no wish of mine, 
even for a moment, or however innocently, to violate or offend. 

But to return. Men, it will be said, are not now tormented, or 
deprived of life, for metaph^-sical distinctions m divmity. It may be 
so : we shall, however, do weU to note, as I have before observed, 
what the nature of the human mind really is. Thus much may be 
certainlv affirmed, — that there never was, and there never will be, 
a time when the multitude will not suppose that all these questions 
are perfectly intelhgible. The real and matured scholar, indeed, 



THE REFORMATION. 173 

may hesitate, while he assents to particular points, but the multitude 
have no difficulties : the mazes which look intricate and dark to the 
man of sense and learning are to them without a thorn, and even 
arrayed in all the sunshine of heaven. 

Such was, indeed, the spectacle sometimes displayed durin"- the 
progress of, and long after and before, the Reformation. Erasmus 
might distinguish and refine ; the excellent Chillingworth might de- 
bate and decide, decide and debate again, and lose and disquiet 
himself in the shifting and uncertain shadows of his learning ; St. 
Augustin might confess with what labor, with what sighs, the truth 
could be at last elicited. No such unintelUgible embarrassments 
disquieted the vulgar, or men who were hke the vulgar ; to be doo-- 
matic, it was only necessary then, as it is noiv, to be sufficiently igno- 
rant or unfeeling ; and Europe everywhere exhibited a proof, which 
will on every occasion be repeated, that the mass of mankind, though 
they understand not the controversies of theologians, can easily be 
inflamed about them, can readily seize upon badges of distinction, 
and invent terms of reproach for the purposes of mutual hostihty, — 
find no difficulty in associating with their own vindictive passions the 
cause of the Most High, and, hi this frightful state of presumption 
and blmdness, stand prepared for any outrage that can be proposed 
to them, and bid defiance alike to every expostulation of reason and 
precept of religion. 

It is on these accounts that the statesmen of the world are always 
so justly alarmed, when they foresee the interference of the relio-ious 
principle m the concerns over which they preside, and the°true 
Christian is more than ever compelled to examine the religious spirit 
and the practical precepts of any denomination of ChristiMis by the 
great criterion of their consistence with morahty ; and if he once 
discerns that this spirit and these precepts oppose themselves to our 
moral feelings, to that great religion which the Almighty has, from 
the first, written upon the hearts of all men, that great orio-inal code 
of mercy and justice to which our Saviour himself so constantly 
appeals m his parables and discourses, — if he once discovers that 
there are any speculative or practical conclusions which clash with 
these great laws of the Moral Governor of the world, such conclu- 
sions will need with him no further refutation ; he wiU be at no loss 
to determme, from their very nature, that they must be derived 
trom some misapprehension, or some exaggeration, or some exclu- 
sive consideration of particular passages in Scripture, and that, 
assuredly, they are not sanctioned by the authority of revela- 

I have, in my lecture of yesterday, next observed, that great evils 
were to be expected from the mixture that would necessarily take 
place, ot the pohtics of the world with the more spiritual concerns 
ot the rehgious principle ; and more particidarly, that the question 

0* 



174 LECTURE X. 

of the ecclesiastical patronage could not fail to produce the most 
afflicting animosities and irremediable confusion. 

These observations will be found but too well illustrated by those 
parts of the history of Europe which we are next to advert te. To 
prove the truth of them would be to relate the transactions which you 
are now immediately to read, — the civil and religious wars in France, 
the wars in Germany, down to the peace of Westphalia, the wars in 
the Low Countries, and even in our own island. Everywhere you will 
see the ordinary motives of contest and ambition acting and I'eacted 
upon by the religious principle, and all the more theoretical causes 
for contention and rage continually exasperated and perpetuated by 
the more practical considerations of the disposal of the ecclesiastical 
revenues. I need not further insist on this point ; the history will 
show you what you may already easily conceive. 

I have noAv arrived at the last of the observations which I proposed 
to your consideration, — that, to compensate for these evils, particu- 
lar benefits might probably result to mankind from the rise and prog- 
ress of the Reformation. 

On recurring to the history and to the facts, these benefits will be 
found such as might have been expected, such as have been already 
described as likely to ensue. The Bible was opened ; those particu- 
lar pretensions and doctrines of the Roman Catholic Church which 
were so destructive of the morahty and religion of mankind were 
successfully combated ; the chain of authority was broken, and the 
appeal was transferred from Popes and general comicils to the Scrip- 
tures themselves. 

Such were the immediate, the invaluable, blessings that resulted. 
But a distinction is now to be made between those good effects that 
more immediately and those that more remotely followed the Refor- 
mation, — between those that Luther and the first Reformers meant 
to produce, and smv produced, and those which they did not see, and 
might not perhaps mean to produce. Now the first we have already 
mentioned, — the opening of the Bible, — the establishment of a 
purer faith. We must therefore next advert to the latter. 

The first Reformers, while they were struggling to deliver them- 
selves and mankind from the authority of the Church of Rome, as- 
serted the right of private judgment. When this emancipation from 
the authority of the Pope was once effected, it was natural for them 
to lay down, in their turn, what they believed to be the doctrines of 
religious truth. It was natural for them to conceive, that those who 
opposed their new creeds, so evidently deduced, as they thought, 
from the Sacred Scriptures, misused, and dangerously misused, that 
right of private judgment which had thus been procured. It was 
natural for them to call for the interposition of legislative. authority, 
for the assistance of the secular arm, and to endeavour to become, in 
their turn, a new Church of Rome, though certainly very distinguish- 
able in religious doctrine and in moral practice. 



THE REFORMATION. 175 

But when the right of private judgment had been by the Reformers 
once happily exerted, it was in vain to prescribe hmits to its acti\aty. 
A spirit of incpiiry had arisen, and who was to stay its progress ? 
Who was to define the boundaiies within which the human heart was 
to hope and fear, — within which the human understanding was to 
doubt and discover? The earthly means by which this second 
emancipation of the human mind was effected, this second emancipa- 
tion which the first Reformers did not mean to produce, are suifi- 
cicntly evident. They were found in the revival of learning and the 
invention of printing : these secured the victory that had been ob- 
tained over the Roman see. The Reformers had everywhere en- 
couraged the study of the Greek language, and the meaning of 
the texts of the New Testament was thus brought within the compre- 
hension of the more intelligent part of society. Men of education, 
though laymen, could no longer distinguish between themselves and 
their spiritual teachers. With the same longings after immortality, 
the same terrors of the future, the same revelation proposed to them, 
and the means of interpreting its doctrines and its precepts now com- 
mon to both, no further distinction remained between them, — be- 
tween the layman and the priest, — none but that of superiority of 
learning in the clerical character, or greater purity of manners ; no 
further spiritual influence but such as did and ought to belong to 
more regular and extensive erudition and more settled and anxious 
piety. 

The action and reaction of this freedom of private judgment has 
been productive of the most salutary consequences both to the clergy 
and the laity. The two characters have been more assimilated to 
each other, materially to the benefit of both. This is that silent and 
still more important reformation which slowly succeeded to the more 
visible and to the important reformation in the days of Luther, of 
Calvin, and of Cranmer ; and it is not the less real because it may or 
may not stand acknowledged in the creeds or legislative acts of the 
different churches or states of Christendom. 

But the same freedom of the mind, which had been successfully 
asserted by the Reformers in religious subjects, extended itself after- 
wards to every department of human incpiiry. The nature and 
different provinces of civil and ecclesiastical power were examined 
and ascertained, and the temporal as well as spiritual concerns of 
mankind were delivered from their long and injurious bondage. The 
world of science, too, was now thrown open, and men had no longer 
to be checked in their curiosity or debarred the exercise of their 
natural fixculties, while investigating the laws of nature, by the ter- 
rors of the Inquisition or the disapprobation of their temporal and 
spiritual rulers. The same right of private judgment came, at 
length, to be exercised on the more abstruse subjects of speculative 
inquiry, on the original principles of metaphysics and morals. Even 



176 LECTURE X. 

the evidences of religion itself became subjects of discussion ; and 
they who had not the means of investigating truth themselves, the 
illiterate and the busy, might be consoled by perceiving that such 
means were amply in the possession of others, and that belief in au- 
thority might now be reasonable, when no authority was evidently 
acknowledged but the authority of truth. 

Lastly, it must be observed, that, although the religious principle 
mingled itself most unhappily with the temporal politics of Europe, 
its interference was in some respects productive of the most perma- 
nent and beneficial eifects. The Reformers, through all their differ- 
ent varieties of opinion, were necessarily, till they became themselves 
the established sect, the friends of religious liberty. But with the 
rights of religious liberty the rights of civil liberty were naturally 
connected ; the cause, therefore, of civil freedom was always the 
cause of the Reformers, — a cause most dear to them while they 
were the inferior sect, and more congenial to them whenever they 
became the superior. It is not easy to estimate the salutary influ- 
ence that came thus to operate upon the different constitutions of 
civil polity in Europe, particularly in our own island. It is not too 
much to say, that, had it not been for this animating spark, the civil 
rights of mankind, on the decline of the feudal system, would have 
expired under the increasing power which the sovereign at that criti- 
cal period everywhere obtained. 

The Reformation, when considered, as it ought to be, in all these 
points of view, may be reasonably represented as one of the greatest 
events, or rather as the greatest event, in modern history. To the 
Reformation we owe not only the destruction of the temporal and 
spiritual thraldom of the Papacy, the great evil with which Europe 
had to struggle, but to the Reformation we may be said to owe all 
the improvements wliich afterwards took place, not only in religion, 
but in legislation, in science, and in our knowledge of the faculties 
and operations of the human mind, — in other words, all that can 
distinguish the most enlightened from the darkest periods of human 
society. 

I must now proceed to mention such books and treatises as may, I 
think, be sufficient to give proper information with respect to this 
memorable struggle for the purity of religion and the freedom of the 
human mind. But I must observe, in the first place, that on the 
subject of the Reformation, above all others, it is not for me to offer 
any limits to the ardor of the student or the extent of his inquiries. 
Endeavouring, however, as usual, to make what I recommend as 
practicable as possible, and to mention as few, not as many, books as 
the subject admits of, I am inclined to propose to the student to read, 
first, the history of the Reformation in Robertson's Charles the 
Fifth ; next, the history of Charles the Fifth in Coxe's Austria ; 
next, that of the Reformation in Mr. Roscoe's Leo the Tenth ; and 



THE REFORMATION. 177 

lastly, the same subject in the fifty-fourth chapter of Gibbon. After 
these have been considered, I would have him turn to Mosheim, 
and read the introduction and first four chapters that relate to the 
Reformation in the fourth volume of our English edition. He may 
then 1)cgin at the second part, and read the history of the Lutheran 
and Reformed Churches ; turning afterwards to the first part, to con- 
sider, more particularly at the close of it, the history of the Romish 
Church. He will then, I conceive, have a very adequate idea of the 
causes that led to the first rise of the Reformation, of the events that 
attended its progress, and of its conseciuenccs ; nor is the course of 
reading thus proposed long. Each of the writers mentioned has 
his separate and different merits, and you will find the original 
authors referred to, and all the respectable WTiters on the subject 
mentioned, if you choose to weigh the merits of the modern historians 
I have recommended, or of those who were themselves actors in these 
memorable scenes. 

In the general subject of the Reformation there are three great 
divisions : the causes which led to it ; the events that attended its 
progi-ess ; the consequences which resulted from it. I do not detain 
you with commenting here upon topics which you will find regularly 
considered in the writers I have referred to. But the last is the 
most extensive. Effects have been produced, so many and so impor- 
tant, upon the morals and the manners, upon the arts, literature, sci- 
ences, knowledge, rehgion, and politics of Europe, that properly to 
display them would require a work exclusively appropriated to the 
subject, and for which no abihty or information would be entirely 
adequate. 

Some notion of the nature of such a subject may be formed, not 
only from the writings I have mentioned, but more particularly from 
a work which I may now mention, — the Pri^e Essay of Mr. Villers, 
on the S})irit and Influence of the Reformation of Luther. The 
reader will find the author a man of talents, and soon perceive that 
he is a Frenchman. The essay is written, as might be expected, not 
in a manner sufficiently composed and modest ; but from the midst of 
those imposing views and sweeping assertions which are so grateful 
to French authors, when they write exclusively on any particular sub- 
ject, and which are so justly troublesome and embarrassing to the 
more natural mind of an English reader, some rational views may be 
after all selected, and the student will, on the whole, find his mind, 
by the perusal of the essay, enlarged and enriched, and far better 
enabled to form its own judgment than before. Mr. Villers lays 
down the happy effects of the Reformation on the progress of knowl- 
edge and the hberty of thought in the most unqualified manner, and 
he may be compared in these points with some of our own Enghsh 
writers. Gibbon and Roscoe, whom I have mentioned, and who think 
very differently on this particular part of the subject. The great 
23 



178 LECTURE X. 

divisions of the essay are the influence of the Reformation, first, on 
the pohtical situation of the states of Europe, and, secondly, on the 
progress of knowledge. The first will, I think, be found of most value. 
There is a good life of Luther prefixed, borrowed from Robertson and 
others, and an appendix which contains a sketch of ecclesiastical his- 
tory, and which, as a sketch, seems able, and, on the whole, may 
not be without its use. The section which treats of reformations in 
general is the worst part of the whole. I see in Mr. Hallam's last 
work that he does not think Villers an original inquirer. 

Thus much for the history of the Reformation in general, and here 
I might close all further disquisition on these objects of our inquiry. 
But an English student will naturally turn with more peculiar inter- 
est to the fortunes of the Reformation in his own country ; and I must 
therefore say a few words, before I conclude my lecture, on this more 
particular portion of the general subject. 

The student must, in the first place, have been much pleased, when 
he was considering the causes of the Reformation in Robertson and 
other writers, to observe the striking merits of his countryman, John 
Wickhffe. He will find an account of him in Henry's History of 
England, in Neal's History of the Puritans, in Fox's Book of Mar- 
tyrs, and in the third volume of Mosheim, where he will see a refer- 
ence given to a more complete and regular history of his life ; lastly, 
in Milner's Church History. Nothing can be more creditable to any 
man than to' anticipate the discoveries of a subsequent age, to be 
already as enlightened as those who live a century and a half after- 
wards. Such was the exalted merit of Wickliffe ; the Reformers seem 
in no respect to have surpassed, many not to have equalled him. 
What is still more extraordinary is, that he was allowed to die as 
peaceably as if he had not been wiser than the rest of the world. 

The student may now turn to the history of the Reformation as 
given by Mr. Hume. It is always desirable to consider a subject in 
as simple a form as possible, and on this account I w^ould recommend 
you to pause at the end of his reign of Ehzabeth or James ; for the 
materials afforded for your reflection in the subsequent reigns will 
remain the same, only exhibited to your view in colors still more 
striking. 

Turning to the account which now remains in Mr. Hume's work 
after his last corrections and omissions (for those who wrote against 
him wrote against passages which you will now not find), I have the 
following observations to submit to your reflection. 

The cause of the Reformers, in their first struggle with the Church 
of Rome, which I distinguish from their subsequent contests with 
each other, was the cause of truth, of religion, and of all the best 
interests of society. Now the proper and just and natural influence 
of so sacred a cause on the human mind is not duly observed or 
properly respected by Mr. Hume, and the student must not suffer 



THE REFORMATION. 179 

himself to be insensibly led into so striking an injustice to such vir- 
tuous men, and into so thoughtless an indifference to such sacred 
principles. It would not be fair to try Mr. Hume by a single sen- 
tence which may have been inconsiderately written, but the reader 
may proceed through all the causes of the progress of the Reforma- 
tion which are mentioned in this part of his History, and he will see 
those that are secondary and those that are not creditaljle to the 
Reformers chiefly and indeed alone insisted upon. It is not that 
causes are mentioned that did not operate, but that the natural and 
just efficacy and influence of truth and reUgious inquiry, when op- 
posed to the gross doctrines and abuses of the Papacy, are over- 
looked. The fault here is considerably analogous to the fiiult com- 
mitted by Mr. Gibbon in his fifteenth and sixteenth chapters, with 
respect to the propagation of Christianity. He produces and dwells 
upon every cause but the main and the right one, that on which the 
rest depended. 

Again, objections that belong to some of the Reformers are trans- 
ferred to all, and made characteristic of the whole cause. In all 
questions, civil as well as religious, there is no species of injustice 
against which the student should be so much on his guard as this. 
None is so common ; good and wise men are continually made to 
answer for the bad principles and bad conduct of others, with whom 
they indeed agree, but agree only as to certain points. It is often 
the ungenerous artifice of their opponents, and always the custom of 
the vulgar, to confound these distinctions, however real. 

Again, improper motives are sometimes imputed to the Reformers. 
Our nature is made up, as it is well known, of various ingredients ; 
our best principles readily associating with, and often assisted by, 
motives not the most dignified. But it is not pliilosophical, neither is 
it a part friendly to mankind, to rob our virtues of their due share 
in those actions which they so contribute to produce, if they do not 
entirely produce. A species of injustice like this is one of the chief 
faUacies in the works of Rochefoucauld, Mandeville, and the licentious 
moralists. 

Again, the people are represented by Mr. Hume as passive with 
respect to religion, and as ready to receive aiiy form or description 
of it. But the student is not thence to conclude, as too many 
have done, that this is an argument against all rehgion. True re- 
ligion as well as false religion may be taken upon authority. The 
original question of the truth or falsehood of a religion remains the 
same. An argument, indeed, may be hence adduced for the free- 
dom of religious inquiry, that the people may see that others inquire, 
though they cannot ; but this is the proper conclusion, not an indis- 
criminate conclusion against all religion whatever. 

Lastly, there is through the whole of ]Mr. Hume's recital a certam 
air of carelessness with respect to religion, and a readiness to repre- 



180 LECTURE X. 

sent all warmth on the subject, even in these very peculiar times, as 
fanaticism. Mr. Hume's opinions in religion are well known, and 
all this might have been expected. You will therefore take into your 
account these particular opinions. Assuredly, Mr. Hume, as an his- 
torian, should not have taken his own view of the question of religion 
for granted, and should not have confounded the warmth of men, 
when opposed to the abuses of religion, with their fury, when en- 
countering each other, — when contending, not for the opening of the 
Bible, but for some speculative point in divinity, or when persecuting 
each other on account of some vestment or ceremony, in itself of no 
importance. 

When these cautions have been premised, I am not aware that you 
can be otherwise than materially instructed by the penetrating re- 
marks of this historian on the effects of the rehgious principle during 
these singular times. No man should turn entirely away from the 
criticisms even of his enemy. The most religious man may be taught 
lessons by some of the comments of this powerful writer ; and the 
more blind tenets of the Papists on the one hand, a.nd the more fan- 
tastic whims of the Puritans on the other, whenever they appear, 
may surely be surrendered to his mercy. 

Along with Hume, I would recommend Burnet's History of the 
Reformation. No cautions need be suggested before the perusal of 
the laborious work of this impartial and liberal Churchman, an orna- 
ment to his order, and who deserved the name of Christian. 

Fox's Book of Martyrs should be looked at. It is, indeed, in 
itself a long and dreadful history of the intolerance of the human 
mind, and at the same time of the astonishing constancy of the human 
mind ; that is, it is at once a monument of its lowest debasement and 
its highest elevation. The volumes of Fox are also everywhere de- 
scriptive of the manners and opinions of the different ages through 
which the author proceeds. The transactions relating to Anne As- 
kew, the disputations of Lambert before Henry the Eighth, of Lati- 
mer, Ridley, and Cramner at Oxford, with the examinations and suf- 
ferings of these eminent martyrs, should be thoroughly read, and may 
serve as specimens of such atrocious, and, at first sight, such aston- 
ishing scenes. 

Fox may always be consulted, when the enormities of the Papists 
are to be sought for. Those of the Protestants may be collected from 
Burnet, or rather may be seen in Neal's History of the Puritans, and 
in Dodd's Church History ; and of Dodd you will see an account in 
Chalmers's Biograpliia Britannica, He did not put his name to his 
work. I have placed in a note-book on the table some particulars, 
which, though not necessary for a Roman Catholic audience, may not 
be without their edification to an audience of Protestants, and of 
members of the Church of England. 

Li Dr. Lingard's History we may consider ourselves as now re- 



THE REFORMATION. 181 

cemng what we have never before had, — a statement of the case of 
the Roman Cathohcs, by one of theh- omii bodv, at a proper distance 
of tune irom the events. 

_ The account which is ,-iven by Dr. Eobertson of the Reformation 
m Scotland must be considered ; it is not only valuable as describino- 
the rise and progress of the Reformation in a part of our own island'' 
but It is enriched by many reasonable observations on the Reforma- 
tion, and on refonners in general. Robertson must be compared with 
Hume ; some difference may be observed in their accounts 

Hunie certainly intended to make the Reformers of Scotland odious 
and ridiculous. He had great powers of exciting sentiments of this 
kmc, on whatever occasion he pleased ; and he has certainly suc- 
ceeded m the mstance before us. It is quite necessary, therefore 
that a very valuable book lately pubhshed by Dr. M'Crie should be 
read. His Life of Knox will correct our present notions in many 
important pomts. Knox does not seem to have been altogether the 
lerocious, unfeelmg barbarian that we suppose, though he was most 
vehement, and on the subject of Popery most intolerant. He was 
however, much the same in nature and merit with many of the great 
Reformers of England and of the Continent, and had greater Mu- 
ence here, as well as in Scotland, and was from the first a more im- 
portant person, than the general reader is aware of 

It is veiy desirable, that, along with l\Ir. Hume's History, some 
work like this of Dr. M'Crie should be well meditated. For the 
situation of Europe at the breaking out of the Reformation should be 
known ; what Popery was, and what were its tenets and ceremonies ; in 
Short what was the battle, — according to a favorite imao-e of Knox 
— what was the battle which the Refonners had to fio-ht^ and what 
was the piety, what the invincible confidence in the ?ause of truth 
wit^Ii wnch these first Reformers, these great representatives of some 
ot the highest qualities of the human character, were animated. No 
book will serve this purpose better than this Life of Knox by Dr 
xVl trie Some misrepresentations in Mr. Hume's account are also 
pointed out, sufficient to show that tliis historian is not to be trusted 
when he has to describe the conduct of the professors of relioion. It 
may be added, that the student will derive from the work°a more 
tavorable^ impression of the Presbyterian communion than he has 
a e v^h'nn P|;^J^^1>Jity, entertained. New impressions of this kind 
aie valuable. Different sects of Clmstians should know what are 
tbe more appropriate merits as well as faults of each other Thev 
always content themselves with the latter, — the faults ' 

Miw! P^'r^^'^V^'f";;?- ^ '"'^'lll^^'' ^^^ ^^«^ ^^« ^'^^^"^^es of Dean 

tdLe 1, f '-X .r^ ^''' ^''"5^'"'' ^P"^ ^ particular system of doc- 
The r'pn r*/.^^f'/^? ^ lecturer of history, I have no concern, 
ine reason for which it is necessary that I should recommend them 



P 



182 LECTURE XI. 

to your attention is this, — that they contain, particularly in the life 
of Luther, the best account I know of the more intellectual part ot 
the history of the Reformation ; in other words, they contam the 
proo-ress of the Reformation in Luther's own mind: a very curious 
subfect Such were the great talents and quahties of Luther, and 
such was the situation of Europe at the time, that the Reformation, in 
fact, passed from the mind of the one into the mmd of the other, i 
therefore consider these two volumes, particularly m the lives ot 
WicklifFe and Luther, as a most entertaining and valuable accession 
to our general stock of information, and one that may be considered 
as accessible to every student. Dr. Milner appears to me too deter- 
mined a panegyrist of Luther. This, however, may be forgiven 
him ; not to say that it becomes me to speak with diffidence, when 1 
speak to differ from one whom I know to have been so able and 
whom I conceive to have been so diligent. 

Since these lectures were written, many valuable and interesting 
workshave appeared,— more than I can enumerate: Histories of 
the Reformation by Mr. Blunt and Mr. Soame ; different Lives ot 
Erasmus and Luther; Lives of Wickliffe, Cranmer, and our emi- 
nent divines, by Mr. Le Bas, a learned and powerful writer ; and 
many learned treatises connected with the doctrines of our English 
Church, — that is, with the Reformation; among the rest, some 
striking observations on Erasmus and Luther by Mr. Hallam, m the 
first volume of his intended work on the Literature of Europe. 



LECTURE XL 

FRANCE. — CIVIL AND RELIGIOUS WARS. 

In my lecture of yesterday I concluded my observations on the 
Reformation, I must now turn to the French history, and m the 
following lecture I must endeavour to give you some general notion 
of the history of a whole century, — the sixteenth. 

In considering the first part of this century, I shall have to notice 
the wars of enterprise and ambition carried on by the French mon- 
archs, Charles the Eighth and his successors. In considermg ttie 
second part of the century, I shall have to allude to the great suD- 
iect of the civil and religious wars of France. 

These transactions and events cannot be detailed m any manner, 
however slight. I can only make general remarks, — first on the 



FRANCE. — CIVIL AND RELIGIOUS WARS. 183 

one period, and then on tlie other ; mentioning, at the same time, 
such books as will furnish you hereafter -with those particulars on 
which I am now obliged to comment as if you were entirely ac- 
quainted with them already. 

We left the French history at the death of Louis the Eleventh ; 
before, therefore, we arrive at the civil and religious wars of France, 
we must pass through the reigns of Charles the Eighth, Louis the 
Twelfth, and Francis the First. Of these the reader will be able to 
form a very adequate idea by reading the works of Mr. Roscoe and 
Dr. Robertson. These reigns may also be read in Mezeray, a writer 
of great authority ; or they may be read in Renault, and Millot, and 
Velly, as the rest of the French history has been. De Thou or 
Thuanus, it may be also observed, introduces his History with a gen- 
eral review of France and the state of Europe, — a portion of his 
great work that has been much admired, — and then begins with the 
year 154G, a little before the death of Francis the First. 

The lesson which may, on the whole, be derived from this first 
half of the sixteenth century is the folly, the crime, of attempting 
foreign conquest ; this is the leading observation I have to offer. 
Chai-les the Eighth of France had descended into Italy ; Louis the 
Twelfth must therefore do the same ; so must Francis the First and 
Henry the Second. The honor of the French nation was, it seems, 
engaged. 

But Spain, which was becoming the great rival state in Europe, 
chose also, like France, to be, as she conceived, powerful and re- 
no^vned ; Ferdinand, therefore, and Charles the Fifth, and after- 
wards Philip the Second, Avere to waste, with the same ignorant 
ferocity, the lives and happiness of their subjects ; and for what pur- 
pose ? Not to keep the balance of Europe undisturbed ; not to 
expel the French from Italy, and to abstain from all projects of con- 
quest themselves ; but, on the contrary, by rushing in, to contend for 
tie whole or a part of the plunder. 

The Italians, in the mean time, whose unhappy country * was thus 
made the arena on which these unprincipled combatants Avere to 
struggle with each other, adopted what appeared to them the only 
resource, — that of fighting the one against the other, — if possible, 
to destroy both ; leaguing themselves sometimes with France, some- 
times with Spain, and suffering from each power every possible 
calamity ; while they were exhibiting, in their own conduct, all the 
degrading arts of duplicity and intrigue. A more wretched and dis- 
gusting picture of mankind cannot well be displayed : all the faults 
of wliich man, in his social state, is capable ; opposite extremes 

* There is a well-known beautiful sonnet in the Italian, translated by Mr. Roscoe, 
and imitated by Lord B^Ton, — a lamentation that Italy had not been more powerful 
or less attractive, — whicli I have seen an Italian repeat almost mth tears. 



184 LECTURE XI. 

of guilt united ; all the vices of pusillanimitj, and all tlie crimes of 
courage. 

The miseries and degradation of Italy have never ceased since the 
fall of the Roman Empire. The great misfortune of this country 
has always been its divisions into petty states, — a misfortune that was 
irremediable. No cardinal made into a sovereign could ever be ex- 
pected to combine its discordant parts into a free government ; and 
unless this was done, nothing was done : could this, indeed, have 
been effected, the Italians might have been virtuous and happy. 

Artifice, and a policy proverbially faithless, were vain expedients 
against the great monarchies of Europe. But while Italy was to be 
thus destroyed by these unprincipled despoilers, what, in the mean 
time, was to be the consequence to these very monarchies ? In Spain, 
the real sources of power neglected ; immense revenue, and no 
Avealth ; possessions multiplied abroad, and no prosperous provinces 
at home ; the strength of the country exliausted in maintaining a 
powerful army, for the purposes, not of defence, but of tyranny and 
injustice ; and the w'hole system of policy, in every part, and on 
every occasion, a long and disgusting train of mistake and guilt. In 
France, the same neglect of the real sources of strength and happi- 
ness : the produce of the land and labor of the community employed 
in military enterprises ; the genius of the nobles made more and 
more warhke ; military fame and the intrigues of gallantry (con- 
genial pursuits) converted into the only objects of anxiety and am- 
bition ; licentiousness everywhere the result, in the court and in the 
nation ; the power of the crown unreasonably strengthened ; the 
people oppressed with taxes, their interests never considered ; the en- 
ergies of this great country misdirected and abused ; and the science 
of public happiness (except, indeed, in the arts of amusement and 
splendor) totally unknown or disregarded. 

France and Spain, therefore, concur with Italy in completing the 
lesson that is exhibited to our reflection : ambition and injustice have 
their victims in the countries that are invaded and destroyed, and 
have alike their victims in those very invaders and destroyers. Bet- 
ter governments in all, or in any, would have made these evils less ; 
and good governments are thus, in all times and situations of the 
world, the common interest of every state, as connected with its 
neighbours, and of every prince and people, as concerned in their 
own individual happiness. 

I now proceed to make some general remarks on the latter part 
of the century. The remaining half comprehends, in French his- 
tory, the era of the civil and religious wars, an era that is pecvxliarly 
interesting ; and the great difficulty is, to prevent our minds from 
being overpowered and bewildered by the variety of subjects which 
present themselves to our examination. The events are striking; 
the actors splendid ; the interests important ; and could we see and 



FRANCE. — CIVIL AND RELIGIOUS WARS. 185 

understand the scene witli the rapidity with which we do the dramas 
of Otway or of Shakspeare, the eflfect would be even more powerful 
and the impression more lasting. But an acquaintance with a great 
and real tragedy like this, that lasted for nearly forty years, can 
be acquired only by a course of reading extended to a considerable 
length and somewhat steadily sustained. To say the truth, it is 
more than usually perplexing to know, on this occasion, what books 
to propose. The great historians of the times are Thuanus and 
Davila ; but the work of Davila occupies a very large folio, and the 
History of Thuanus is extended through nearly six folios in the 
original Latin, and through nearly ten full quartos in the French 
translation. 

I must therefore explain what I think may be attempted, and 
what will, I conceive, be sufficient. It will be found that the com- 
prehensive mind of De Thou undertook, and accomplished, the his- 
tory of all the rest of Europe, as well as of France, and I therefore 
propose to you to confine your attention to that part which relates 
to the French history. The quarto work, the French translation, 
■will be the best to resort to ; and there will be here no difficulty 
in selecting the history of France from the remainder of the work. 
Again, a considerable part of the narrative is employed on the 
progress of the civil wars in the different provinces of France, and on 
the militarj'' operations of the contending parties. These may now be 
looked at very slightly. It is the conferences, the assemblies, the 
manifestos, the treaties, the reasonings and \dews of the Huguenots 
and Roman Catholics, to which your observation should be directed. 
Now these, though they are detailed, and very properly, at great 
length, by De Thou, do not, after all, constitute a mass of reading 
which may not, and which ought not, to be undertaken. Even here, 
some parts may be considered far less attentively than others, and 
with these limitations, and on this system, I do not hesitate to recom- 
mend to your perusal the great work of one of the first of modern 
historians. 

In like manner, Davila may be read in parts ; the work may be 
referred to in all the more important particulars, especially with re- 
spect to the views, interests, and intrigues of the different leaders and 
factions. The narrative is remai'kably unaffected, perspicuous, and 
complete ; and every thing is so easy, natural, and relevant to the 
subject, that the reader who turns to consult the work will unavoida- 
bly read on and do more, and perceive, that, if a character is to be 
estimated, or any particular event to be understood, the account of 
Davila must necessarily be considered. 

The Duke of Epernon, an actor in these scenes, is related by his 

biographer to have been pleased with this History ; and above all, to 

have commended the exact care which the author had taken to in- 

fonn himself of the secret motives by which the different parties and 

24 p* 



186 LECTURE XI. 

leaders were actuated at the time. But we must not forget, tliat the 
family of Davila, and himself, were connected with Catherine de 
Medicis ; that he has been considered as her apologist ; that he was 
an Italian, and a soldier ; and that every thing with him is, of course, 
referred to faction or to selfishness. Ideas of civil or religious liberty 
seem little to have occurred to him ; and the reader is to consider his 
History as supplying him with materials which he must combine with 
those of other writers, — not in any instance as furnishing him with 
conclusions to which he is to assent without due hesitation. 

De Thou is likewise an historian of facts and of detail, but his sen- 
timents are generous and enlarged ; and the student, while he reads 
what men were, and but too often are, will never be suffered to forget 
what they ought to be. 

French literature is not so eminently distinguished for great regu- 
lar works of history as for memoirs of the great characters of history. 
Books of this kind are, of all, the most amusing ; and, when inspected 
by a philosophic eye, are often well fitted to afford the most important 
conclusions. The Memoirs of Brantome are of this description. The 
writer is, of all others, himself the least of a thinker or of an in- 
structor ; but he goes on with the most captivating rapidity and 
variety, often superficial and inconsistent ; panegyrizing every one 
he has to speak of, without the slightest moral discrimination, but 
always supplying the reader with those traits of character and pecu- 
liarities of conduct which render his personages known and famiUar 
to us, — no longer seen in the cabinet or the field, but exhibited in 
the recesses of private life, just as they really were, with all the 
whims and follies that belong to them. 

The Memoirs of Sully finish the portrait of these times, not only in 
finishing for us the portrait of Henry the Fourth, but in giving us 
many curious particulars respecting the practical government of 
France, its finances, factions, and the whole state of its constitution 
and interests. The Memoirs, indeed, are but a mass of papers ar- 
ranged by his secretaries and drawn up under his eye, and it is much 
to be lamented that this upright minister did not extend his virtuous 
activity to the more regular composition of a more finished history. 
But, such as it is, it is still authentic and particularly valuable, and 
must be read. There has been lately a new edition and translation 
of this work. 

These are all original works, and, in the manner I have mentioned, 
may be perused. 

A ncAV edition of the work of Brantome was in 1812 published in 
Paris. It will be far more than supplied to an English reader by a 
work of Mr. Wraxall, — "Memoirs of the Kings of France of the 
Race of Valois," — which is collected from various writers of this 
kind, is but too amusing, and, as a companion to the gi-eater his- 
tories, perfectly invaluable. 



FRANCE. — CIVIL AND RELIGIOUS WARS. 187 

There is also a regular " History of France," by IMr. Wraxall, 
from which the reader will derive the greatest assistance, while en- 
gaged with the original works of De Thou and Da^dla. It is even 
quite necessary to him. The narrative is drawn from many more 
writers than could possibly be read, or even easily be consulted ; and 
the particulars, brought together with great diligence, give a very 
perspicuous and complete view of the characters and events of these 
times. The work, after having been long neglected, chiefly, I should 
think, from the anxious and critical nature of the times when it ap- 
peared (1795), Avas republished by the author in 1814, and enriched, 
as he supposes, — disfigured, as I conceive, — by allusions to Bona- 
parte and modern pohtics. This work of Mr. Wraxall, with the Abbe 
de Mably, may be sufficient for the general reader. D'Anquetil's 
work, " L'Intrigue du Cabinet," may be added. 

Since I wTote this lecture, a work has appeared by Lacretelle, — 
his History of France during the Religious Wars of France. This 
work, with the xVbbe de Mably, may be also sufficient. The matter 
of the first volume you will find better in Kobertson, and so of other 
parts of the work in our own historians ; but this part of the French 
history which we are considering he gives in a very concise, agree- 
able, interesting manner. He touches upon the right points, and 
will facilitate the reading of other French historians, if you choose 
to read them also. He is too great a panegyi'ist of Henry the 
Fourth, and does not take sufficiently into account the effect of the 
rehgious principle, while explaining the history of these times ; that 
is, while explaining the history, he seems not to feel how respectable, 
how sublime, may be the principle, the devotion to the cause of 
sacred truth, in many persons, while it may transport some men into 
fanaticism, and again, in others, may be mixed with worldly consid- 
erations. He has something of the fault of Davila, with whom every 
thing is a mere struggle of ambition. 

But while this part of the history of France is read, in whatever 
author, EngUsh or French, the observations upon it by Mably must 
be studied ; they are more than ever able and important. 

This lecture was written many years ago, and I have now de- 
scribed such authors and memoirs as have been always studied by 
the readers of history. But there has lately appeared a w^ork, that, 
as far as the general reader is concerned, may be a substitute for 
them all. It was drawn up for the Theological Library by the late 
Mr. Smedley, a most excellent man and a very able writer. It con- 
sists of three octavo volumes, and gives the history of the Reformed 
Church in Fi-ance down to the present times. It is an extremely 
interesting and valuable work, beautifully done, and entirely to be 
recommended. 

Turning now from the books to be read to such observations as 
I hope may be useful, I have first to remark, that these dreadful 



188 LECTURE XI. 

wars of the latter half of the sixteenth century were of a civil as 
well as of a religious nature ; they are called the Civil and Religious 
Wars. 

I mentioned, in my lecture on the Reformation, how easily the 
concerns of religion would mingle with the politics of the world ; how 
readily each would act and react upon the other ; the rage and ran- 
cor that must ensue. This Avas so much the case in the instance of 
France, that men appeared almost to lose the common attributes of 
their nature. Some of the leading particulars seem to have been as 
follows. 

The great families in France, though their free constitution was no 
more, though they might now be controlled by any prmce of ability, 
who dispensed his favors with care, and suffered none to become too 
powerful, were still in themselves perfectly able to disturb the state 
and to shake the monarchy, whenever a man of great enterprise and 
genius appeared among them, or whenever a weak prince was seated 
on the throne. 

Francis the First, though formed to be the idol of Frenchmen, still 
carried on a regular system of inspection over his nobles and their 
proceedings in every place and province of France. " Beware," he 
said, on his death-bed, to his son, Henry the Second, " beware of the 
Guises ! " His sagacity was but too well shown by sul)sequent events. 
The historians, particularly Davila, give a very clear description 
of the court and of the great men Avho were ready to contend for 
power immediately on his decease, and during the reign of his suc- 
cessor, Henry the Second. The chances of confusion were already 
very sufficient, but they were still further increased when Francis 
the Second came to the throne ; for not only was he a minor and of no 
capacity, but the queen-mother was Catherine de Medicis. Charles 
the Ninth was, again, a minor, and, again, her son ; and she was 
mother even to Henry the Third, who next mounted the throne after 
Henry the Second and Francis the Second. 

The family of Guise, connected by marriage with the reigning 
family, produced distinguished men, — two, more particularly, of great 
genius and of the most aspiring ambition. These were the two men 
whom Francis the First had dreaded. The Prince of Conde, as a 
prince of the blood, conceived that the administration naturally be- 
longed to him ; the Constable Montmorency, with the ancient fam- 
ilies, had the same pretensions ; and the queen-mother had unhappily 
resolved to hold the reigns of government herself, and therefore en- 
deavoured to rule all competitors for authority by dividing and oppos- 
ing them to each other. 

As Catherine was a woman of great natural ability, and as Charles 
the Ninth and Henry the Third were far from being devoid of it, it 
is probable that the authority of the crown might still have maintained 
itself, and preserved a tolerable state of peace and order ; but it 



FRANCE. — CIVIL AND RELIGIOUS WARS. 189 

happened, most unfortunately, that the Prince of Concle was a Prot- ' 
estant, the Constable a Roman Catholic ; the court and the Guises 
were of the Roman Catholic persuasion also ; and the people had 
been inflamed against each other ))y the natural progress of religious 
differences. The Prince of Conde, therefore, had only to state the 
grievances of the Calvinists, and to be their leader, the Duke of 
Guise to assert the supposed rights of the Roman Catholics, and to 
declare himself their chief, and long wars of the most exterminating 
fury were sure to be the consequence. 

You will observe the matei-ials of destruction preparing in the 
horrible execution of the Calvinists by Francis the First, and after- 
wards by Henry the Second, and in various intolerant edicts that 
were from time to time pubhshed. There is a book, The Edict of 
Nantes, in the first chapter of which may be found an account of the 
introduction of Calvinism into France, and its first persecutions stated 
very concisely. 

The contests, therefore, of civil and religious hate were now to 
begin. I cannot relate the facts ; I have to observe, therefore, 
generally, — first, that the commencement of wars, particularly of 
civil wars, must always be interesting to every reader of reflection. 
We may turn away our eyes, when the sword has been once drawn, 
from the crimes and the horrors that ensue ; but, till the fii-st fatal 
act of hostility has been committed, we examine with care, we follow 
with anxiety, the steps of the contending parties, and we bless in 
silence those real patriots, if any there be, who have breathed, how- 
ever vainly, the sounds of forbearance and kindness, — who have ex- 
postulated, explained, conciliated, and labored, if possible, to pro- 
cure a pause. Such sentiments are felt, occasionally, even by the 
very actors in the scene. A remarkable instance of this kind occur- 
red in this period of the French history. 

At the moment when the civil wars were on the point of breaking 
out, and each party stood prepared and in arms, the Prince of Conde 
and the queen-mother had a conference, by regular appointment, to 
adjust, if possible, terms of mutual accommodation. Their followers 
were ordered to remain at a distance, merely because it was sup- 
posed, that, if they approached each other, some word, some look of 
offence, might be interchanged, and in an instant the kingdom be- 
come a scene of blood. They were contented awhile to obey their 
orders, but they at last, with great difficulty, obtained leave to take 
a nearer view of each other, that they might no longer appear already 
occupied by sentiments of esti-angement and suspicion. It was then 
that nature prevailed, for one short and reasonable moment, over all 
the more artificial impulses of misguided opinion and military duty. 
They recognized, each, in the ranks of his opponents, his brother, his 
relation, or his friend ; hostility and defiance were at an end ; they 
saluted each other, they embraced, they implored from each other 



190 LECTURE XI. 

mutual compassion and forbearance ; they deprecated a war, where 
to conquer was not to triumph ; they mingled their tears, the tears 
of terror as of affection, — of terror, lest the next day should see 
them, as it did see them, drawn out in fearful combat with each 
other, to be friends and brothers no more, to destroy, to pursue even 
to agony and death, each the generous and gallant man that the 
chance of battle presented to his sword. — And why were scenes 
like these to ensue ? The Prince of Conde required, it seems, that 
the new Leaguers should leave the court, and that the late tolerant 
edict should be observed. " The first does not meet my wishes," 
said the queen-mother ; " the second is impossible. Were we to 
think further of this edict, all the clergy, a great part of the nobility, 
and almost all the nation, would be against us." And these were 
the unhappy obstacles in the way of peace that could not be re- 
moved ! 

If there be any principle necessary to mankind, it is that of the 
civil obedience of the subject, that principle by which the single mind 
of the ruler is able to direct and control the physical strength of mil- 
lions ; if there be any one good that is totally invaluable to our help- 
less condition, it is religion. But there are seasons m the history of 
mankind when we are tempted almost to wish that men could be dis- 
robed at once of all the distinctions and ties which belong to their 
social state, and thrown again into the woods to take the chance of 
savage existence, rather than be suifered so frightfully to abuse, so 
intolerably to waste, the best materials of their happiness, and the 
first blessings of their nature. It is on this account that the wars of 
faction, and more particularly, as in this case, of religious faction, 
should be most thoroughly studied ; that, as much as possible, not 
only the nature of ambition should be kno^ra, but the temptations of 
the religious principle, when interfering in the affairs of the world, 
should be understood ; that, as much as possible, mankind may be 
put upon their guard, not only against their rulers, but agamst them- 
selves, — not only against their own vices, but against the most vir- 
tuous tendencies of their nature. 

I now proceed to some further comments on transactions to which 
I can in no other way but in this, of general comment, allude. The 
great leading conclusions to be deduced from these Avars are much 
the same as have been already drawn from the prior history of the 
Reformation ; as, 

1st. The slowness with which the doctrines of toleration are com- 
prehended even by the best men. The celebrated Preface of Thu- 
anus, his Dedication to Henry the Fourth, the speeches and reason- 
ings of the great magistrates of the realm, and of all the friends to 
order and peace, such as they are given in his History, all lead to 
this conclusion. Eorbearance to the Protestants is never argued 
upon any general principles, such as the right of private judgment, — 



FRANCE. — CIVIL AND RELIGIOUS WARS. 191 

but upon the inefficacj of force and punishment to convince men of 
their errors. Good men, even if sufficiently enlightened, could prob- 
ably then venture on no other language, and, indeed, naturally 
adopted the argument that admits of no answer. The parties them- 
selves seem always to have supposed, each, that the other was abomi- 
nable in the sight of the Creator, and that, as such, they were to be 
punished and subdued by all who had any proper sense of religion. 

The wars were repeatedly closed and renewed. The court and 
the Catholics could never rest satisfied, on the one side, while the 
Protestants exercised their religion in the face of day ; and the Prot- 
estants, on the other side, could never bring themselves to believe 
that they were in a state of proper security. The manifestos, 
edicts, and mutual complaints indicate very completely the particu- 
lar nature of religious animosity, and should, therefore, be well 
studied. 

2dly. The difficulties in the way of concord were the same as they 
have always been. The questions to be settled were, the exercise of 
public worship, the payment of tithes to the ministers of the prevail- 
ing communion, the admission to places of honor and influence ; and 
in these civil wars the Calvinists were so inferior in strength to 
their opponents, that even the education of their children, the rites 
of biu-ial and marriage, the equal participation of the laws, and other 
similar considerations, were all subjects of contention. 

But, though always defeated in the field, though always inferior in 
number and resources to their opponents, they were never totally 
subdued. It is said that in number they were not above one tenth 
of the whole. Before the civil wars began, they were dragged to 
the stake ; but during them, they continually obtained edicts which 
rendered their existence more tolerable. Like their gallant and 
virtuous leader, the Admiral Coligny, they never despaired of the 
common cause, and were thus enabled to procure something like for- 
bearance and respect from their unenlightened opponents. The sort 
of success that they obtained, and the injuries they inflicted on their 
adversaries, are calculated to teach mankind, not only that men can- 
not be influenced in their religious opinions by force, but that every 
sect is to be managed, even on the mere principles of worldly policy, 
with proper deference and kindness ; that the objects clamored for by 
the bigoted are not worth the risk of such contention as they may 
occasion ; that men, whether right or wrong, and with or without suc- 
cess, will die in support of what they think the truth ; and that they 
may often be enabled thus to die, amid the calamities and slaughter 
of their persecutors. 

3dly. There were conferences of divines to settle religious differ- 
ences, as in other countries, during and after the Reformation, and 
with the same ill success. An account of one of them, where the 
celebrated Theodore Beza took a distinguished part, is given by De 



192 LECTURE XI. 

Thou. The whole relation is curious and instructive. But disputa- 
tions like these, what are they? Lambert disputed before Henry the 
Eighth against his bishops, and was defeated. A Protestant divine 
was in like manner overpowered before Henry the Fourth in France, 
as would, no doubt, have been a Roman Catholic divine before Eliza- 
beth in England. Public disputations of this kind are characteristics 
of the age, and indicative of the natural tendencies of the human 
mind on these subjects ; they should therefore be considered. 

When, indeed, Henry the Fourth afterwards announced, that he 
was ready to be converted, if proper arguments could be offered to 
him, the reasonings of the Roman Catliolic divines were successful, 
and they demonstrated to him the doctrines of auricular confession, 
the invocation of saints, and the spiritual authority of the Papal see. 
These, it seems, were the points on which the scruples of the king 
had happened to fall. On the doctrine of transubstantiation he had 
no difficulty. All history thus shows, what all theory announces, 
that speculative truth, particularly in religious questions, can be left 
with best advantage to the silent influence and ultimate decision, not 
of creeds and councils, but of free inquiry. 

Again, there appeared in these rehgious wars the same want of 
good faith that has so often marked the conduct of the ruling sect, 
the same inextinguishable resentment, the same unwillingness to be 
satisfied while their opponents were suffered to appear in any state 
but that of total degradation and submission ; and then the next 
lesson is this, — that the whole of the history bears testimony to the 
impohcy of a temperament so unjust and so irreligious. Even the 
massacre of St. Bartholomew extinguished not the evil which the 
court meant to remedy ; it only made their anxieties, and perhaps 
even their dangers, the greater. 

Thus far the religious wars of France seem to exhibit the same 
features and lessons of instruction that are presented by other re- 
ligious wars, whatever be the ruling sect, the Roman Catholic or the 
Protestant. But in one respect these were distinguishable from aU 
others that Europe has witnessed, — their more than usual horrors, 
their singularly atrocious crimes ; in none others were all the char- 
ities and obligations of mankind so violated, and all the common 
principles of mercy and justice so outraged and set at naught. This 
seems to indicate not only the necessity of a free government to 
humanize men, but also that the members of the Roman Catholic 
communion are of all sects the most intolerant and cruel. 

The reason is, that they are more under the influence of their 
spiritual guides ; and every sect will be found more or less intolerant 
and cruel, as this is more or less the case. A spiritual director, like 
every human being, abuses the power that is given him. The more 
milimited the power, the greater the abuse ; and whether it be the 
Bramin in the East, the Calvinistic preacher in Scotland, or the Ro- 



FRANCE. — CIVIL AND RELIGIOUS WARS. 193 

man Catholic priest in France and Spain, the effect proceeds from 
the same cause, and is proportioned to it. The spiritual guide, in 
these cases, generally deceives himself, and always deceives his fol- 
lower, by considering the cause in which his passions have got en- 
gaged as the cause of the Deity. And yet, strange as it may seem, 
it appears from this very history that men may sometimes teach 
themselves the same identification of their own religious opinions 
with the cause of the Deity, by the workings of their own mind, 
even without the interference of any spiritual instructor. 

For instance, Poltrot (Vol. iii. p. 394, De Thou) assassinated the 
first Duke of Guise. " Poltrot had embraced," says the historian, 
" with great ardor, the Protestant faith ; and, enraged at the success 
of this great Catholic leader, he resolved to destroy him. He had 
thrown himself on his knees to ask in prayer from the Almighty 
whether his design to kill the tyrant, as he called him, was, or 
was not, derived from heaven. He had implored to be accordingly 
fortified in his resolution, or not ; and he perpetrated the murder 
under the belief that he had been inspired to do so." Poltrot was a 
Protestant, and had no spiritual director ; but Smedley considers 
Poltrot only as a ruffian, not as a fanatic. — p. 263, vol. i., of his 
Religious Wars. 

On a principle of this kind, and, what is still more dreadful, gen- 
erally with the sanction of the deliberations and reasonings of some 
priest or confessor, was the life of Henry the Third taken away, and 
that of Henry the Fourth several times attempted. Even the en- 
thusiasm of Ravaillac, who at last assassinated Henry the Fourth, 
though it reached insanity, was religious insanity : so careful should 
all religious men be never to lose sight, for a moment, of their moral 
obhgations ; if they once do, it is impossible to say what point of 
enthusiasm, or even of guilt, they may not reach. 

But not only were murders of this nature committed, but a mas- 
sacre (I allude to the massacre of St. Bartholomew), a massacre of 
every person of consequence that belonged to the inferior sect, under 
cover of a reconcihation, was actually both conceived and almost en- 
tirely perpetrated, — and that by the first people of rank in France, 
regularly deliberating, contriving, and executing, slowdy and syste- 
matically, what is not pardoned to human nature even in her wildest 
transports of sudden fury and brutal folly. With all the latitude 
that can be imagined for civil and religious hatred, nothing but evi- 
dence totally irresistible could reconcile the mind to the belief of such 
an astonishing project of guilt and horror. The entire and total sep- 
aration and hatred that existed between the two religious sects must 
have been carried to an extent noAV inconceivable, or such a scheme 
could never have been devised, and still less executed. Could it 
have been supposed possible that such a secret as this would have 
been so kept, that a certain portion of the whole community, an 
25 Q 



194 LECTURE XL 

entire description of brave men, should be slaughtered in their beds 
and in the streets, in the capital and in the provinces, to the amount 
of seventy thousand human beings, without the slightest chance of 
combination or resistance against their murderers ? Yet such was 
the fact. 

All memoirs and historians make mention of this massacre of St. 
Bartholomew ; and each becomes worth consulting, by noticing some 
particulars not noticed by the rest. Davila, at other times so inter- 
esting from his minuteness, and judicious minuteness, disappoints ex- 
pectation. The subject could not well be dwelt upon by an historian 
like him, who must have tvished, at least, to think well of Catherine, 
with whose court he had been connected. De Thou enters more into 
the detail. 

After the first emotions of astonishment, indignation, and horror 
have subsided, we may, perhaps, not unprofitably turn to reflect on 
the manner in which the perpetrators of such atrocities could recon- 
cile them (and they did reconcile them) to their own views of relig- 
ion and virtue. Men on their death-beds were known to consider 
the part they took in these extraordinary crimes as meritorious with 
the Deity. The massacre was defended by reasonings at Rome, by 
an oration of the eloquent Muretus, by the sermons of divines, and 
the apologies of men in the highest stations, and even sanctioned by 
public authority at Paris. The annals of the world do not exhibit so 
awful an instance (and this is the great lesson to be drawn from 
these enormities) of the dangerous situation in which the human 
mind is placed, when it once consents, on whatever account, whether 
of supposed religion or imagined duty, to depart from the great and 
acknowledged precepts of morality. I must for ever press this 
point upon your remembrance, — the great code of mercy and jus- 
tice impressed upon the human heart by the Creator ; an attention 
to it can alone keep you safe from the possible delusions of rehgious 
zeal. 

The Protestant part of Europe at the time, and posterity ever 
since, have vindicated the rights of insulted reason and religion. It 
is some melancholy consolation to observe, that even the abominable 
court itself was, at first, obliged to pretend, and their apologists 
since, that they only anticipated a projected insurrection of the 
Huguenots. Charles the Ninth seems never to have known health 
or cheerfulness agam : he had pages to sing him to sleep ; and he at 
last died, ere his youth had well passed away, lost and destroyed in 
body as in mmd, and, if possible, an object of compassion. It is in- 
deed true, that Catherine, while virging on her hesitating son, could 
quote a passage from the sermon of the Bishop of Bitonto, to assure 
him that pity to a heretic was, in fact, but cruelty, and cruelty pity ! 
But there were governors in some of the provinces that replied to 
the mandate of their sovereign, — " We are good citizens, we are 



FRANCE. — CIVIL AND RELIGIOUS WARS. 195 

brave soldiers, but we are not executioners." " Excidat ilia dies," 
said the virtuous De Thou, ashamed of his countrymen, — 

" Excidat ilia dies tevo, ne postcra credant 
Secula : nos certe taceamus, et obruta multa 
Nocte tegi propriae patiaraur crimiua gentis." 

Mankind, from a sense of their common nature, might wish the 
same. 

Such seem the general reflections that may occur to us wliile we 
are engaged in earlier parts of the annals of this period. But in 
reading the history of these civil and religious wars, you must ob- 
serve, that, though for some time the Roman Catholics are united 
with the court in opposition to the Protestants, yet at length a new 
scene opens, and the contest is carried on against the Protestants by 
the Roman Catholics themselves, with or tvithout the assistance of the 
court. The celebrated combination called " the League " makes its 
appearance, — a combmation independent of the crown, — and the 
result is, that the throne itself is at last shaken, and the crown 
nearly overpowered by positive rebellion. 

This League, therefore, forms an epoch in the history of these civil 
and religious wars, and they may thus be divided into two parts, be- 
fore and after it. This last is, like the former, a portion of history 
that should be well studied. Davila and De Thou, particularly Da- 
vila, should be carefully read. There is also a history of the League 
by Maimbourg, who lived in the time of Louis the Fourteenth. Pie 
is never considered as a writer sufficiently temperate ; his hatred of 
the Cahdnists was such, that his representations must always be read 
with very great caution. You have the work of D'Anquetil on the 
subject. The whole account is very well given by Wraxall, and to 
him I refer you. You will find in Lacretelle a concise and intelligi- 
ble detail of it. 

The sum and substance of this part of the history is, that the sec- 
ond Duke of Guise had ability enough to get himself considered as 
the defender of the Roman Catholic religion ; to form a union in 
support of it, without any authority from the crown ; to point the 
zeal of the CathoHcs against the king, as an enemy to the faith ; to 
avail himself of the \'ices and indolence of the prince, and to improve 
every favorable circumstance so successfully, as at last almost to 
mount the throne amid an insurrection at Paris ; finally, though he 
did not then mount the throne, to resume his plans, after the king's 
escape from the capital, and to urge on his projects, till he was at 
last himself assassinated by order of the wretched monarch, who 
could see, as he thought, no other expedient to preserve longer his 
crown, his liberty, or his life. 

Of transactions like these there is, evidently, no part that may not 
be instructive. I cannot enter into any narrative, but I will, as be- 
fore, offer some general remarks, to be left for your consideration, 



196 LECTURE XI. 

"when you come to read the history yourselves. How, for instance, 
could such an armed union as this of the League ever make its ap- 
pearance without being instantly put down by the crown ? How 
could it ever be joined by men who did not, from the first, mean to 
alter the government, or, at least, to change the monarch ? Ques- 
tions like these will show you the importance of these transactions, 
for they involve in their consideration many points that will always 
be of importance to every good citizen, and every good government 
that can be found among mankind. 

From a note in Sully, where these transactions are alluded to, it 
may be collected, that there are several manuscripts in the king's 
library at Paris that Avould throw great light on the first origin and 
progress of this unconstitutional combination. But even in Maim- 
bourg the reader will find (and given, apparently, upon sufficient 
authority) the first draft of this association, afterwards called " the 
League," which the Duke of Guise caused to be circulated in a 
part of France. It is not known to, or at least is not noticed by, the 
great historians ; but it appears to me remarkable, as enabling us to 
observe the manner by which men may be gradually led from one 
step to another, till they arrive ultimately at positive rebellion. 

The terms of the first association, as given by Maimbourg, not by 
the great historians, appear to express nothing but devotion to the 
Catholic religion and loyalty to the monarch. The difficulty must 
always have been, how to throw power into the hands of the Duke 
of Guise. In the articles, therefore, there is a chief of the League 
mentioned, and but slightly ; only twice with any distinctness, and 
always in subordination to the king. The strongest expression is 
this : — " The chief of the aforesaid association, who is Monsieur 
D'Humicrs, to whom we promise to render all honor and obedience," 
&c. This chief might evidently have been afterwards altered, and 
made the Due de Guise. But in the celebrated formulary of the 
League, which was at last and afterwards circulated and signed, as 
it is given by Mezeray, D'Aubigne, and Davila, and as it is under- 
stood by De Thou, though there is the same spirit of devotion to the 
Roman Catholic religion and of loyalty to the king, there is an un- 
limited obedience distinctly acknoAvledged to the head of the League, 
and with these remarkable words annexed, — "Without exception of 
persons." That is, an obedience was acknowledged, unknovvn to 
the constitution of the realm, without bounds, and that ultimately 
attached itself, not to the king, but to the chief of the League, and 
to him alone, " without exception of persons." 

Here, therefore, is one of those instances in history which are to 
teach men very carefully to Avatch over the erection of any power 
unknown to the constitution of their country, any power which 
may be brought into competition with the existing authorities ; how 
careful they must be on this point, if they really mean only to im- 



[M 



FRANCE. — CIVIL AND RELIGIOUS WARS. 197 

prove that constitution, and do not mean eventually to overthrow it. 
This is my first observation ; but the history of this League exhibits, 
among many lessons, another that may be mentioned. 

The intolerance of the Roman CathoUcs, and the zeal of their 
preachers, were of great, and, indeed, of indispensable, service to the 
Duke of Guise, in the gradual prosecution of his ambitious designs. 
During the first part of the history of these civil wars, the Roman 
Catholic clergy enforced the doctrines of intolerance against the 
Protestants, and united with the court ; that is, they inflamed the 
animosities of the parties, and, in fact, did every injury to the state 
and to religion that was possible. During the latter part, the same 
clergy were employed in the cause of the League, — opposed to the 
Protestants indeed, and engaged in support of the supposed cause 
of religion, but opposed to the king also. " The king is no good 
Catholic," said the preachers ; " religion will be destroyed among 
us." I quot« from the historian. 

Examples of this kind in history have taught statesmen most 
anxiously to deprecate, at all times, the interference of the ministers 
of reli.gion in the politics of the state. Their zeal may be virtuous, 
and often is, but they see every thing through the mist of that zeal ; 
they exaggerate, they inflame the people, they mflame themselves ; 
they set into motion a principle (the religious principle) against 
which, if it once becomes inflamed, no other principle of reason or 
propriety can be successfully opposed. They have been naturally 
accustomed to look in one direction, and they are, therefore, though 
men of education, seldom able to take a view sufficiently extended 
of the general interests of the commimity. This was the opinion 
even of Lord Clarendon. Such statesmen, therefore, as have meant 
ill have often converted men of this sacred character into instru- 
ments to serve their own political purposes ; and such statesmen as 
have endeavoured well have but too often found them impediments 
to their desigiis. All history enforces upon the attention disagree- 
able conclusions of this nature, and pious and good men should be 
aware of it ; though I cannot mean, that men, because they are 
clergymen, should cease to be citizens. I state the lessons and mo- 
nitions of history, more particularly of this period of history. The 
impression which it had left on the mind of Mr. Burke must have 
been of this kind ; for when the late Dr. Price, about the beginning 
of the French Revolution, preached a sort of political discourse at 
the Old Jewry, which he afterwards published, Mr. Burke was im- 
mediately reminded of the very times we are now considering, — the 
times of the League in France. He mentions them along with the 
Solemn League and Covenant, so memorable in the history of Scot- 
land and England ; and he admonishes the Doctor, that men like 
him, men of his sacred profession, were unacquainted with the world, 
and had nothing of politics but the passions they excite. 



198 LECTURE XL 

Another observation must also be made. The Duke of Guise 
found a no less effective, though more unworthy, support in the king 
and in the court itself than he did in the clergy ; that is, he found a 
support in their profligacy, their waste of public money, their scan- 
dalous disposal of places of trust and honor, and their total disregard 
of public opinion. These vices produced in the people that effect 
which they have invariably done, and which they can never fail to 
do. It is possible that circumstances may not be sufficiently critical 
to produce, exactly at the time, insurrections and revolutions ; but 
the materials for these most dreadful calamities are always ready, 
when such flagitious conduct has been at all persevered in. The 
great, on these occasions, have no right to blame the populace ; they 
have themselves first exhibited the vices and crimes to the commis- 
sion of which they were more particularly liable ; and the vulgar do 
no more, when they break out, in their turn, into acts of brutality 
and ferocity. Manners and principles are propagated downwards, 
and on this account the lower orders, to a considerable extent, be- 
come what they are made by the example of their superiors. This 
example may be vicious or may be virtuous ; in either case, it can- 
not but have influence. 

Lastly, I must remark, tliat there are several parts of this history 
of the League that seem almost to have announced to us, two cen- 
turies ago, the unhappy events of modern times. When we turn, for 
example, to the account of the day of the barricadoes in Paris, we 
have the siege of the Louvre, the Swiss guards, the flight of the 
king, the tumultuous capital, the committees, and other particulars, 
that might almost lead us to imagine that we were reading but a 
detail of the transactions that lately took place in the very same me- 
tropolis, — that, in fact, we were engaged in the perusal of the hor- 
rors of the French Revolution. 

Such are, I think, some of the general reflections which belong to 
these civil and religious wars in France, in both their different stages, 
before and after the project of the League. 

I must now leave you to read the history for yourselves. I may 
observe, indeed, before you do so, that these scenes have always been 
recommended to the interest and curiosity of mankind, not only be- 
cause they have exhibited in the strongest manner the Avorkings of 
the two great passions of civil and religious hate, but because times 
so extraordinary were calculated to produce, and did produce, char- 
acters the most extraordinary, — fierce crimes, unbridled licentious- 
ness, but accompanied with great courage and ability in the one sex, 
and with genius and spirit in the other. These have always more 
particularly marked this singular era, and have, therefore, had a 
charm for the readers of history, not derived, I fear, from any very 
respectable desire either of philosophic entertainment or instruction. 
Brantome has always been read ; but in the Memoirs of the House 



HENRY THE FOURTH. 199 

of Valois, by Wraxall, may be found an ample specimen of the char- 
acters and anecdotes which belong to this part of history; and you 
may in this work occupy yourselves more than sufficiently in a species 
of reading by which every one, I fear, may be amused, and no one, I 
am sure, can be improved. 

I must here close my account of these civil and religious Avars, 
which will be found, when perused, too busy in events, and too fertile 
in character, to be treated in any other but this indistinct and gen- 
eral manner. But as the student is thus supposed to approach the 
great subject of the civil and religious wars, by which in France, and 
everywhere in Europe, these ages were distinguished, I cannot con- 
clude this part of my lecture without making one observation more, 
however obvious. It is this : that the theatre of the world is not the 
place where we are to look for religion ; her more natural province 
must ever be the scenes of domestic and social Ufe. Too elevated to 
take the lead in cabinets and camps, to appear in the bustle and osten- 
tation of a court, or the tumults of a popular assembly, amid the strug- 
gles of pohtical intrigue, or the vulgar pursuits of avarice and ambi- 
tion. Religion must not be judged of by the pictures that appear of her 
in history. The form that is there seen is an earthly and counterfeit 
resemblance, which we must not mistake for the divine original. 



LECTURE XII. 



HENRY THE FOURTH, AND THE LOW COUNTRIES. 

Ix my last lecture I made some remarks on the civil and religious 
wars of France, before and during the League. The reign of the 
celebrated Henry the Fourth forms the concluding part of tins re- 
markable era. The great historical French work on the subject of 
his life and reign is by Perefixe ; but De Thou, Sully, Mably, L'ln- 
trigue du Cabinet, with .Wraxall, will be the best authors, as I con- 
ceive, to recommend to your attention. You may read Lacretelle ; 
he is too favorable. You may in these works read the narrative of 
his eventful Ufe. I cannot enter into it. A few general observar 
tions, on the whole, are all that I can attempt to offer. 

The situation of Henry, while mounting the throne of France, was 
so beset with difficulties, that, as we read the history, we can scarcely 
imagine how he is ever to become successful, though we already know 
that such was the event. He was a Huguenot, and the nation could 



200 LECTURE XII. 

not, therefore, endure that he should be king ; he had been leagued 
with Henrj, the former king, while that prince was stained with the 
blood of the Duke of Guise, the great object of national admiration ; 
he had a disputed title ; an able and experienced general to oppose 
him in Majenne, the brother of the murdered Guise, backed by a 
triumphant party, and by the furious Parisians ; lastly, he was ex- 
posed to the hostile interference of one of the most consummate 
generals that ever appeared, the Duke of Parma, at the head of the 
Spanish infantry, then the first in the world. It must be confessed, 
that Hemy, with some assistance from fortune, fairly, slowly, and 
laboriously won and deserved his crown. This part of the history is 
well given by Wraxall, from De Thou and others. 

But Henry had not only to win the crown, but to wear it, — not 
only to acquire, but preserve it. Now the great lesson to be drawn 
from Henry's life is the wisdom of generous policy, the prudence of 
magnanimity. To these he owed his success. There was nothing 
narrow in his views, no ungovernable animosity that rankled in his 
memory : he forgot, he forgave, he offered favorable terms, he nego- 
tiated with all the fearless liberality of an elevated mind. The path 
of honorable virtue was here, as it always is, that of true policy, that 
of safety and happiness. The result was, that he was served, by 
men who had been opponents and rebels, more faithfully than other 
princes have been by their favorites and dependants. 

Henry has always been, and with some justice, the idol of the 
French nation. But in his private life, two fatal passions reduce 
him, great as he was in public, to a level with his fellow-mortals, and 
sometimes far below them. It was in vain that the virtuous Sully 
remonstrated against his passion for play. Again, Henry seems 
never to have suspected that domestic comfort was to be purchased 
only by domestic virtue. In respect of the Princess of Conde, 
such was his licentious nature, such the result, as is alwaj^s the case, 
of the long indulgence of his passions, that he is, in this affair, as far 
as I can understand the history, very little to be distinguished from 
a mere violent and unprincipled tyrant. 

The name of Henry the Fourth may remind us of a celebrated 
work, the Henriade of Voltaire. This extraordinary writer was 
allowed to be a poet by Gibbon, and an historian by Robertson. The 
poem will exhibit him in both capacities. It should be read immedi- 
ately after reading the history of these times. Thus read, it will 
strike the judgment and refresh the knowledge of the student, while 
it exercises his taste, and, to a certain degree, animates his imagina- 
tion. The work was considered by its author merely as a poem, and 
not a history ; but it is now chiefly valuable for the descriptions 
which it gives of the great characters and events of these times, 
drawn with great beauty and force, and evidently by the pencil 
of a master. It will be found very entertaining, read in the way I 
propose. 



HENRY THE FOURTH. 201 

On the whole, the strikin;^ scenes of this celebrated period in 
French history (the period of the sixteenth century) attach power- 
fully on our attention ; but we must never forget to remark those 
incidents which paint the manners, laws, and constitution of any peo- 
ple whose annals we are reading. Incidents of this kind may be 
found, many of them in Do Thou, some in Davila, many more in 
very inferior authors, such as L'Etoile. Every information of this 
sort is collected with great diligence and propriety of selection by 
Wraxall : a large part of his work is very properly dedicated to the 
delineation of the arts, manners, commerce, government, and internal 
situation of society, — first, under the later princes of the house of 
Valois, and, secondly, during the reign of Henry the Fourth. 

Tliis author does not seem to have studied the science of political 
economy with the same diligence which he has exerted in his more 
immediate department of history, and therefore his conclusions on 
these subjects must be read with great caution. The science seems 
to have been still more unknown to the statesmen and historians of 
France ; it is therefore difficult to understand their reasonings, or 
benefit by their remarks, when such matters are touched upon. 

The facts and anecdotes of these times, which Wraxall has col- 
lected, exhibit a most afflicting picture of licentiousness and vice. 
The historian is obliged to acknowledge that he can find only three 
virtues then in existence, — courage, friendship, and, what could be 
less expected, " filial obedience " ; a scanty catalogue, which it 
seems cannot be enlarged. Yet was this the age of religious wars ! 
So much more easy it is to contend about religion than to prac- 
tise it. 

The arts of luxury and splendor seem to have been fully displayed 
in the courts and castles of the great barons. The peasants and 
lower orders were, in the mean time, lost in wretchedness and igno- 
rance, and debased by oppression. Even the higher orders them- 
selves, amid all their costly excesses, were exposed to many evils and 
inconveniences which we, of the present clay, should consider as 
quite inconsistent with our personal comfort. So different is the 
wealth of a country from the riches of a court ; so different the prog- 
ress of the more costly arts from the general improvement of so- 
ciety. 

After the personal character of Henry, the events of his reign, 
and the manners of the times have been considered, the last and 
great object of inquiry is the constitution of France. If this had 
received any improvement, however dreadful might have been the 
effects of these civil and religious wars in other respects, the pros- 
pect of future happiness to this great kingdom would have been still 
open. 

What, therefore, we ask, had been the fortunes of the States-Gen- 
eral ? The answer may, unhappilv, be given in the description in 
26 



202 LECTURE XII. 

the Henriade : — " Inefficient assemblies, where laws were pro}K)Secl, 
rather than executed, and where abuses were detailed with eloquence, 
but not remedied." The public seem, indeed, to have felt the weight 
of taxes ; and complaints and representations were made in these 
assembhes, which in this manner occasionally reached the throne it- 
self. At two different periods, in 1576, and still more in 1588, an 
opportunity was offered of at least some effort for the general good, 
but ui vain. The images of liberty had been too long withdrawn 
from the eyes of the nation, and no reasonable ideas on the subject 
seem to have been entertained by any leader or description of men 
in the state. Even the religious reformers seem not, in France, to 
have felt in themselves, or to have endeavoured to excite in the minds 
of their countrymen, any of those principles of civil liberty which so 
honorably distinguished them in other parts of Europe. 

In the constitution of France, the only part of the system which the 
reader can fix upon as yet of consequence to the cause of civil lib- 
erty, the only body from which any thing could yet be hoped, was 
the Parliaments. These assemblies, particularly that of Paris, seem 
continually to have offered a sort of yielding resistance to the arbi- 
trary power of the crown, — to have been ever ready to assert priv- 
ileges (to assert or create them) which might, eventually, be of de- 
cisive importance to the nation. For instance, they acquired, or 
retained, the prerogative of registering the edicts of the king. In 
the exercise of this prerogative, a most important one, it is true they 
always accommodated themselves to the wishes of the monarch, 
whenever he insisted upon their compliance : still, the prerogative 
itself remained in existence ; royal edicts, after all, were not exactly 
laws ; they became so, only when the Parliaments had given them a 
last sanction, by consenting to register them. Here, then, lay the 
great secret of the constitution, — how far the king could legally 
compel this acquiescence ; and here was fixed the proper engine of 
constitutional control or resistance. You will see its importance 
when you come to read the history of the French Revolution. 

On this subject of the constitution, facts and information may be 
taken from Wraxall, and above all from Sully, who is an origmal 
author and full of them ; but principles and reasonings must be 
drawn from the Abbe de Mably. 

The value of a national representation, as an instrument of taxa- 
tion, even to the crown itself, may be seen in the history of France. 
The monarch, it is true, could issue edicts, but the taxes were inter- 
cepted by the collectors of them ; though the subject paid much, the 
crown received little. Arbitrary power is not favorable to the real 
affluence of the sovereign. For the same notions in the people and 
in the monarch that lead to arbitrary power lead to abuses of every 
description : compulsory loans, venality of offices, demands of free 
gifts, rapacious exactions from opulent traders, destructive imposi- 



HENRY THE FOURTH. 203 

tions, and anticipations of revenue ; habits of expense, improvident 
management, and a universal system of Avaste and peculation. But 
it is in this manner that all the sources of national revenue are de- 
stroyed ; and if the revenue be not produced, the monarch cannot 
have a part of it. It was in vain for the prince, even if patriotic, to 
endeavour to introduce economy into his household and expenses : a 
large sum might be collected in such a country as France, by a 
minister like Sully, under a king like Henry the Fourth ; but the 
Memoirs of Sully himself resound with the king's embarrassments 
and poverty. The whole organization of society, from the throne 
down to the cottage, if the government be arbitrary, is always, to the 
purposes of a royal exchequer, unfavorable ; every instrument that 
the monarch can employ is, more or less, a bad one. The monarch 
and court, by the absence of all apparent criticism from public as- 
semblies, themselves lose the necessary discipline and support of 
virtue. They become themselves, and every one around and below 
them, expensive and depraved, profuse and needy. 

The great accusation to be brought against Henry is, that he did 
nothing for the hberties of France, nothing for its constitution. He 
never attempted to turn to the best advantage such a means of im- 
provement as might still have been found in the States-General. He 
labored to be a father to his people, but only because it was his own 
good pleasure to be so ; he forgot that the power which he directed 
to the benefit of his subjects was to descend to others, — and that it 
was one thing for a nation to have a good king, and another to have 
a good constitution. 

There are two services, hoAvever, which he rendered to the consti- 
tution of France, and that by his own merits. First, he prevented 
the renewal of the government of the fiefs. The great nobles were 
made so powerful by the civil wars, their followers so familiarized to 
arms, all order and law so banished from the kingdom, and the gov- 
ernors of provinces were possessed of powers so vast and dangerous, 
that independent sovereignties might probably have been established, 
if Henry the Fourth had not been on the throne during the first very 
critical years that succeeded to the assassination of Henry the Third. 
Considerable efforts were made by some of the great leaders to have 
their governments made hereditary, even while Henry the Fourth 
was their monarch, armed with all his advantages of talents and suc- 
cess. The hereditary governments, if once estabhshed, might readily 
have assumed the nature and privileges of independent sovereignty, 
and the country been broken up and ruined. 

Secondly, he procured for the Protestants the edict of Nantes. 
The promulgation of this edict must be considered as a sort of con- 
clusion of the religious wars, — wars which, for nearly forty years, 
desolated France, and had more than realized the dreadful pictures 
of Tacitus, even when describing the worst times of the worst people. 



204 LECTURE XII. 

This celebrated edict will surely attract the curiosity of every re- 
flecting:^ mind. I have already mentioned a work under the title of 
the Edict of Nantes, and recommended the perusal of the first book. 
I now recommend the fifth, which will give the reader a very ade- 
quate idea of the times and of the subject. The edict itself is at the 
end of the first volume, and may be easily read. It consisted of 
ninety-two general articles, and these followed by fifty-six secret 
articles. After all these have been considered, the observations of 
the Abbe de Mably may be attended to. 

The Protestants, the inferior sect, made the usual demands, and 
the Roman Catholics the usual objections. The points in debate 
comprehended all the accustomed difficulties. At length, by the 
articles of the edict (VI. IX. X.), the Protestants were allowed to 
live everywhere in France without molestation on account of their 
private religious tenets, and pviblicly to enjoy (XIV.) the exercise 
of their religion in particular places, though not in the metropolis, or 
within a certain distance of it. 

You will look, I hope, at these articles, particularly the secret 
articles. I cannot further allude to them as I could wish to do, for 
in this lecture, as in every other, I am restricted to a certain time ; 
but I must at least point out to you the twenty-seventh article, which 
is to us more particularly interesting, as the policy of our own coun- 
try has been different, and as the wisdom of our policy has been very 
reasonably disputed. 

By the twenty-seventh article of the edict, the Protestants (the 
Dissenters in France) were rendered eligible to all offices, without 
exacting any other oath from them but (I quote the article) " well 
and faithfully to serve the king in the discharge of their offices, and 
to observe the ordinances as they have been observed at all times " ; 
that is, the test was civil, not religious. Our policy, as seen in our 
Corporation and Test Acts, is different. These are so contrived, 
that, with us, Roman Catholics and Dissenters are necessarily ex- 
cluded from offices ; for they are required to take the sacrament after 
the manner of the Church of England ; that is, the test is religious. 

Tlie humanity and philosophy of the Abbe de Mably take fire, 
when he comes to notice this celebrated edict. To establish, he ob- 
serves, a solid peace between the two religions, there ought to have 
been estabhshed between them, a perfect equality. If the Protestants 
were feared, no exercise of their religion could have been, he con- 
tends, too public. Their preachings were otherwise to be rendered 
always the hot-beds of intrigue, cabal, and fanaticism. Henry, he 
adds, should have called the States-General, made the parties pro- 
duce and discuss their claims, then have mediated between them and 
formed a law, — the law of the whole nation. 

To views and observations like these the history itself, and all his- 
tory, is a melancholy, but sufficient, answer. It is only astonishing, 



HENRY THE FOURTH. 205 

that, after such scenes as had taken place, Henry could accomplish 
•what he did. Insufficient as it may seem to the Abbe de Mably, it 
was not eifected without the most meritorious exertions on his part, 
and the assertion of all his authority, with both laity and clergy, par- 
ticularly the latter. Had he called the States-General, he would 
only have dignified and organized the opposition which he could 
scarcely, with the assistance of the most favorable circumstances, 
overpower. Like a real statesman, he was resolved to do something 
for the benefit of his country, but was contented when he had done 
what seemed practicable, when, in short, he had made the best of his 
materials. It was sufficient for him, as it must often be for others, 
to have laid the germ of future improvement, which was to ripen, if 
succeeding times were favorable ; if otherwise, to perish. 

" See nations slowly msc, and meanly just." 

The account which Sully gives of these memorable transactions is 
very imperfect and inadequate to their importance. De Thou is 
more satisfactory ; but even by him the subject seems not to have 
been properly comprehended. You -will have some idea of it from 
Lacre telle. 

Some reforms were, however, accomplished by Henry and Sully. 

The merits of Henry the Fourth had an easy conquest over the 
French nation ; for he restored them to peace, after the calamities, 
not only of civil war, but of civil and religious war. Favored by 
fortune, and recommended by great merit, Henry became at once, 
and has always remained, the object of universal admiration. It 
seems but too generally forgotten that Henry made no attempt to 
revive the constitution of his country. The people of France them- 
selves seem never to have objected this most important fault to him. 
Mankind, it must be confessed, are ever running headlong in their 
feehngs of praise and censure ; and they seem almost justified, when 
they give the free reins to their confidence and affections in favor of 
princes who have been their deliverers and protectors. 

But it is, unhappily, on occasions like these, after revolutions or 
great calamities, that a nation loses, as did the French, as did the 
English at the restoration of Charles the Second, all care of its laws, 
its privileges, and its constitution. It thinks only of the horrors of the 
past, and of the comparative enjoyments of the present ; slavery it- 
self is a comfort, when compared with the miseries that have been 
endured ; and good princes as well as bad princes have converted to 
the purposes of their own power these thoughtless, but natural, senti- 
ments, in a fatigued, terrified, and scarcely yet breathing people. 
No periods have, therefore, been so dangerous to the civil liberties 
of a country. What Louis the Eleventh had effected was now 
Avillingly confirmed ; and the whole French nation — a nation of 
civilized men, quick in intelligence, ardent in sentiment, prodigal in 

B 



206 LECTURE XII. 

courage, and the descendants of the Franks — contented themselves 
with the political blessings of the hour, and in the virtues of their 
monarch, without thinking of the future, reposed that confidence 
which should have been given only to some free form of govern- 
ment, — some form of government where their States-General, the 
proper images of themselves, had been combined with the executive 
power, and both harmonized into a regular constitution, for the per- 
manent benefit as well of the prince as of the people. 

Before I quit this subject, I must again recommend to vou an ac- 
count lately drawn up by Mr. Smedley, a History of the Reformed 
Religion in France. The work will tell you every thing that it is 
necessary to know respecting the rehgious part of the history of these 
times. 

We must now turn to a scene that will have been often presented 
to us indirectly, during our perusal of these civil and rehgious wars 
in Fi-ance : the contest between Phihp the Second and his Dutch and 
Flemish subjects ; the progress of the Reformation in the Low Coun- 
tries. 

We are furnished with sufficient materials for understanding these 
interesting transactions. We have the Protestant historian, Grotius ; 
the CathoUc historian, Bentivoglio ; and a very full detail from the 
Catholic historian, Strada. These may be considered as authors 
living at the time. We have also a very full liistory of the Reforma- 
tion by Brandt, who lived half a century afterwards, when the truth 
might be still more completely ascertained ; and lastly, we have our 
own historian, Watson, who, from these and other sources, has drawn 
up his own unaifected and valuable narrative. The whole will divide 
itself naturally into a few different portions, corresponding with the 
different governors and changes of system adopted by the court of 
Spain. But the most instructive is the first, — the interval that 
elapsed while the Netherlands were gradually advancing to rebellion, 
and while Philip was endeavouring to establish his fatal system of 
coercion and intolerance. Now, although the original authors I have 
mentioned may be more or less freely consulted through the whole of 
the contest, I would recommend that they should be entirely perused 
while they give the history of tliis first period, — the period which 
preceded the first appearance of the Duke of Alva in the Nether- 
lands. 

It is somewhat amusing, but it is surely edifying, to observe the 
difference of tone and sentiment in the Catholic and Protestant 
writers. Grotius and Brandt speak a language consistent with civil 
and rehgious freedom, as might be expected ; while with the other his- 
torians all resistance to the civil powers is faction and rebellion, — all 
controversy with the Church, impiety and irreligion. Strada investi- 
gates the causes of the revolt of the Netherlands, and considers and 
dismisses, as of little importance, such solutions of this event as might I 



THE LOW COUNTRIES. 207 

appear to us very adequate to account for it : the introduction, for 
instance, of a standing army amid a people whose laws and constitu- 
tion were of a free and popular cast ; the forcible increase of a num- 
ber of ecclesiastical dignitaries ; the attempt to introduce the Inqui- 
sition ; the enforcing of the intolerable edicts of Charles the Fifth. 
These causes he considers as contributing, indeed, somewhat to the 
tumults in religion, but the first and true origin of the whole he finds 
only in heresy. It was this, he conceives, that rendered turbulent 
the mass of the community ; and when to this was added the discon- 
tent of the nobles, the rest was of course. BentivogUo, in like man- 
ner, considers religion and the Roman Catholic profession of it 
as one and the same thing, and seems never to have apprehended 
that civil obedience had any bounds but the good pleasure of the 
sovereign. 

It is very singular that a Pope's nuncio, like Bentivoglio, coming 
to the Netherlands just after the close of these dreadful contentions, 
should write an account of them which even Grotius should pro- 
nounce to be an impartial history. It is agreeable to observe that 
the great duty of an historian is so obvious and indispensable, that it 
can in this manner be felt and obeyed even by a man hke Bentivo- 
glio, who had surrendered all the freedom of his mind on every other 
subject connected with civil and religious liberty. 

Strada had an unfortunate wish to writei like Tacitus ; but Benti- 
voglio will in no respect fatigue or repel the reader. After the first 
four books have been read and compared with Watson, the remainder 
may be consulted or perused, as the student thinks best. 

There seem to me two principal lessons to be drawn from this part 
of the history of the Low Countries. First, the unhappy eifects of 
intolerance. In this respect the facts and the conclusions to be de- 
rived from them are the same as in other countries, and such as we 
have already noticed. Secondly, the impohcy of all harsh govern- 
ment. The Netherlands were dependencies of the Spanish mon- 
archy. It has never yet been possible to teach any country, or 
even any cabinet, the wisdom of governing its colonies or dependen- 
cies with mildness. The first portion of this history, while Margaret 
of Parma was in authority, is therefore particularly to be studied ; 
the portion I have already mentioned. She endeavoured to govern 
mildly. 

The system of Pliilip the Second was, no doubt, the most violent 
specimen of harsh government that has yet been exhibited among 
mankind. But the system of all other mother countries has been 
similar ; and what difference there may be is in degree, and not 
in kind. 

A distinction is here to be made. Philip the Second has always 
been considered, and justly, as the most perfect example of bigotry 
that history supplies ; and to this must be imputed much of the 



208 LECTURE XII. 

abominable tyranny wliich he exercised over the Low Countries. 
But the love of arbitrary power is always found where bigotry is 
found. The human mind, amid its endless inconsistencies, is indeed 
capable of being animated with a love of religious liberty, and yet of 
being at the same time ignorant of the nature, or somewhat indiffer- 
ent to the cause, of civil liberty. Instances of this kind, though 
very rare, have sometimes occurred, but the converse never has ; no 
man was ever a religious bigot, and at the same time a friend to civil 
liberty; and it was perfectly consistent for PhiUp to introduce not 
only the Inquisition into the Low Countries, but also Spanish soldiers 
into the fortified toAvns ; to deprive the Flemings of the free exercise 
of their religious opinions, and at the same time of the laws and 
privileges of their states and assemblies ; to leave in ecclesiastical 
matters no visible head but the Pope, and in civil aifairs no real 
authority but his own. These were parts of a system of conduct 
that perfectly harmonized with each other : each took its turn as the 
occasion required. 

The favorite instruments of his tyranny were men of like nature 
with himself, — foes equally to civil and religious liberty, — Cardinal 
Granvelle and the Duke of Alva. 

Bigotry and the love of rule had so conspired even in Charles the 
Fifth, his father, that he had paved the way, by his edicts, for aU the 
subsequent proceedings of Phihp, and was, perhaps, saved from simi- 
lar enormities only by a partiality which he had contracted for Flan- 
ders in his early years, — those years when his mind was in its nat- 
ural state, could be capable of attaching itself to the objects that 
surrounded it, and of tasting a happiness which it is probable no sub- 
sequent splendor could ever afterwards bestow. 

The object contended for by Philip was, that the rehgious persua- 
sion of these countries should be the same as his own. " You may 
lose them, if you persist," said one of his officers. " I would rather 
be without kingdoms," he replied, " than enjoy them with heresy." 

Now, on all occasions when harsh government is to be the means, 
it will always be found, as in tliis instance, that, in the first place, the 
end to be accomphshed is not worth the risk of the experiment, to 
say nothing of the injustice of the experiment itself. 

Next, it will be found that some statesman like Cardinal Granvelle 
always makes his appearance : very violent and very able, — quali- 
ties not incompatible ; skilled in business, and perhaps acquainted 
with the inferior country that is to be ruled ; distinct, decisive, and 
consistent in his opinions ; whose counsels, therefore, have an air of 
wisdom which does not belong to them, and acquire irresistible 
authority in the superior or mother country, Avith the monarch and 
his cabinet, because they are not well informed themselves, and are 
already sufficiently disposed to such counsels from the prejudices of 
their own situation. 



THE LOW COUNTRIES. 209 

Again, the Roman Catholic historians are satisfied in imputing all 
the turbulence, as they would call it, of the Prince of Orange and 
the Flemish leaders to disappointed ambition. But it is always for- 
gotten that such disappointment is reasonable. When authority and 
influence are generally conferred, not on the natives of the country 
governed, but on those who in comparison are considered as aliens, it 
is impossible that men should be satisfied with the government which 
robs them of their natural consequence in their own land. This is a 
very common species of impoHcy and injustice. The Flemings, it 
will be found, had every reason to be dissatisfied in this respect. 

Lastly, the student will observe, on the other side, great irreg- 
ularities committed by the people in their mode of resistance 
to Philip : the s^nnbols of the Roman Cathohc worship insulted 
with great violence and outrage ; and an intolerance displayed by 
them^ precisely of the same nature with the intolerance of Philip 
himself. 

Excesses of this kind always occur, and are instantly seized upon 
in argument, by those who govern, as justifying the harsh measures 
that in fact led the way to them ; they are brought forward as de- 
manding fresh applications of force and severity. But the very con- 
trary of all this is the proper conclusion ; it is the total inability of 
the people to govern for themselves, it is their inevitable fury, 
ignorance, and brutahty, when once roused, that render mild gov- 
ernment so indispensable a duty in their rulers. Their faults are a 
part of the very case ; temper, moderation, reasonable views, it is 
ridiculous to expect from them ; but in cabinets they may and ought 
to be found : if they are not found somewhere, what must be the 
consequence ? 

I would recommend you particularly to observe how the whole 
nature of a subject like this is brought before your view by the de- 
bate that you -will find represented by Bentivoglio as taking place in 
the Spanish cabinet in the presence of Philip the Second. The 
Duke of Feria was the advocate for mild measures ; the Duke of 
Alva for force. Their speeches are given. Strada also gives the 
debate, but puts much of the argumentation of Feria into the mouth 
of the Prince of Eboli, who is mentioned by Bentivoglio as seconding 
rather than leading the Duke of Feria. The Duke of Alva appears 
in each of the historians to have advised instant coercion. He was 
the Moloch, whose " sentence was for open war." 

I must confess that I think this debate, which you will see best in 
Bentivogho, very remarkable. It is to be observed, that the reason- 
ings of the Spanish statesmen are, on this occasion, exactly the same 
with those of oui- own statesmen at the breaking out and during the 
continuance of the late American war. Nor was the event dissimi- 
lar. The good sense of the Duke of Feria was exerted with as little 
effect as was afterwards the philosophic eloquence of Mr. Burke. 
27 R* 



210 LECTURE XII. 

The establishment of the republic of Holland was in one instance 
the consequence, and the independence of America in the other. 

But reason and history are equally unavailing to teach the wisdom 
of temperate and healing counsels to a brave and prosperous people, 
as were the Spaniards in the first instance, and the English in the 
second. Such a people and their rulers inflame each other, and 
every thing is to be submitted to that irritable jealousy and high 
sense of national importance which their courage and their power so 
inevitably produce. It was in vain that Margaret of Parma had, in 
the mean time, very tolerably composed the troubles of the Nether- 
lands. The imperious nature of Philip and his counsellors was to be 
gratified, the Flemings were to be taught what it was to resist author- 
ity, and Alva was to be despatched to enforce that obedience by 
arms, which it suited not, it seems, the dignity of the monarch to de- 
serve by humanity and justice. 

The nature of the Flemish grievances may be very clearly under- 
stood from Watson, and even from Bentivoglio. The Reformation 
had made some progress in the Netherlands. The prosperity of the 
people everywhere depended, not on any assistance from the Spanish 
monarchy, but on their own industry and commerce, — that is, on their 
equal laws and constitutional privileges. The edicts of Charles the 
Fifth had declared, that all persons who held heretical opinions 
should be deprived of their offices and degraded from their rank ; 
that they who taught these doctrines, or were present at the relig- 
ious meetings of heretics, should be put to death ; that even those 
who did not inform of heretics should be subjected to the same pen- 
alties. Philip had resolved, first, to enforce these horrible edicts ; 
secondly, to establish a tribunal that could not be distinguished, ex- 
cept in name, from that of the Inquisition ; thirdly, to increase the 
number of bishops from five to seventeen. These were to be the 
ecclesiastical instruments of his power. The civil instruments of his 
authority were to be found in the numerous bands of Spanish soldiers 
which, fourthly, he resolved to station in the provinces, contrary to 
the provisions of their fundamental laws. It can be no matter of 
surprise that a system like this should be considered, by a people so 
situated, as a system of destruction. 

The resistance of the Prince of Orano-e and of some of the Flem- 
ish nobles will be found, even according to the representation of 
Bentivoglio, to have been as temperate and regular as the calmest 
speculator could require ; and the whole of the proceedings between 
them and the regent Margaret, and between both and the Spanish 
court, are very instructive. But when we come to the next part of 
the subject, the resistance that in fact was made, it must surely be a 
matter of great surprise to us to find that no general eflbrt of this 
kind seems to have been made against the Duke of Alva, when he at 
length appeared. He came into the Low Countries, and, with an 



THE LOW COUNTRIES. 211 

ai-my of about fourteen thousand men, he disposed of the hvcs and 
privileges of the Flemings of all ranks at his pleasure, imprisoned 
two of the most popular and meritorious noblemen, erected a Council 
of Tumults, or, as it was more properly called, a Council of Blood, 
and destroyed, in the course of a few months, by the hands of the 
executioner, more than one thousand eight hmidred different individ- 
uals ; while more than twenty thousand persons fled into France, 
Germany, and England, without the slightest attempt having first 
been made, either by themselves or others, for their common safety 
and protection. 

These cruelties, and the cruelties that were inflicted by other per- 
secutors who preceded Alva, may be seen in Brandt ; and Bentivo- 
glio himself observes, that even those who were nowise concerned 
were affrighted to see the faults of others so severely punished ; and 
they groaned, he says, to perceive that Flanders, which was wont to 
enjoy one of the easiest governments in Europe, should now have no 
other object to behold but the terror of arms, flight of exiles, impris- 
onment and blood, death and confiscations. 

The only resource of the Prince of Orange and the patriots seems 
to have been to raise forces in Germany from their own funds, and 
to call to their assistance the Protestant princes, the Count Palatine, 
the Duke of Wurtemberg, the Landgrave of Hesse, and others. 
" The danger is common," says the Prince of Orange ; " so should 
the cause be. The Spanish forces, once in Flanders, will be always 
ready to enter Germany ; and you will have new faces, new customs, 
severe laws, more severely executed, heavy yokes upon your persons, 
and more heavy upon your consciences. I am held," said he, " to 
be the contriver of conspiracies ; but what greater glory can there 
be than to maintain the liberty of a man's country, and to die rather 
than be enslaved ? " 

William and his brother led separate armies against the Duke of 
Alva, but were obliged, the one to fly, and the other to disband his 
troops. The want of the means to pay them proved equally fatal in 
different ways to the enterprises of each commander ; and neither 
proper funds nor adequate assistance were supplied by the Flemings 
themselves. This is one instance among many, which it is melan- 
choly to observe, of the difficulty with which the regular troops of an 
unprincipled tyrant can be resisted, or at least ever are resisted, by 
an insulted and oppressed people. The principal cities became sensi- 
bly thinner in population ; whole villages and small towns were ren- 
dered almost desolate. Still no resistance, — that is, no resistance 
from the Flemings themselves. 

But it fortunately happened that Alva was not only made more 
arbitrary and insolent by success, but he began liimsclf to feci the 
same want of money for the payment of his troops, which had been 
so fatal to the Protestant leaders. Pliilip was supposed at the time 



212 LECTURE XII. 

to possess all the wealth of the world, and he certamlj did possess 
a large portion of the gold and silver of it ; but it was now to be 
shown that ambition and harsh government could exhaust even ]Mex- 
ico and Peru. Alva found himself obhged to have recourse to taxa- 
tion, and to require from the industry and wealth of the Flemings 
themselves that constant supply which all the mines and slaves of his 
master were insufficient to afford him. 

And now for once it happened, that a total ignorance of the prin- 
ciples of political economy in the rulers was eventually favorable to 
the happiness of the people. The duke insisted, — 1st, upon one 
per cent, on all goods movable or immovable ; 2dly, on an annual 
tax of twenty per cent, on all immovable goods or heritage ; and, 
lastly, of ten per cent, on all movable goods, to be paid on every sale 
of them. Taxes better fitted, the former for the annoyance of a 
commercial people, and the latter for their destruction, could not well 
have been contrived. It was in vain that the Duke of Alva was 
told, that, if this ten per cent, was paid on every sale of an article, — 
first on the wool, for instance, then on the yarn, then on the cloth 
before it was dyed ; then, when sold, first to the merchant, secondly 
to the retailer, and lastly to the consumer, — no foreign customer 
would be wiUing to buy it, and no home customer would be able ; and 
that, on the whole, such a tax could produce only the ruin of the 
manufacture itself and all concerned, or, in other words, of all the 
sources of revenue together. Observations of this kind were suffi- 
ciently answered by Alva, as he thought, when he replied, with that 
stupidity as well as insolence which so generally belongs to arbitrary 
power, that the tax was levied in his town of Alva, and that he 
wanted the money. 

It is not very agreeable to observe, that everj'-where, through all 
histor}^ the most sensible nerve that can be touched is this of taxa- 
tion. Privileges may be taken away, laws violated, public assembhes 
discontinued ; no distant consequence is regarded, no common prin- 
ciple seems as yet sufficiently outraged ; the community are silent, or 
murmur only for a short season, and submit. But if a tax is to be 
levied, every man feels his interest at issue, every man starts up in 
arms, every man cries with Shylock, — 

" Nay, take my life, and all ; 

You take my life. 

When you do take the means whereby I live." 

Observe the facts in these Low Countries. The Flemings had 
seen their fellow-citizens executed by the Duke of Alva ; had seen 
all the principles of their civil and religious liberty destroyed ; had 
suffered the Prince of Orange and their patriot leaders to fight 
their battles by means of German Protestants, whom he was to pay 
in any manner he could devise, — a task to which it must have been 
known that his funds were totally unequal : all this they had seen, 



THE LOW COUNTRIES. 213 

and all this pusillanimous guilt tliej had incurred ; but the moment 
that the loss of their civil liberty was to produce one of its many 
injurious effects, the moment that the duke's tax-gatherers were to 
interfere with their manufactures and Avith the sources of their opu- 
lence, then, and not till then, combinations could be formed, a univ^er- 
sal sensation take place, and resistance to the Spanish tyranny every- 
where assume a visible form and become a regular system. 

But our mortification is not yet to end. We might wish to see 
mankind always ready to kindle with a generous and rational sympa- 
thy. We might wish to see them act with some reasonable consis- 
tency and courage, when oppressed. But what was the fact ? The 
Walloon or southern provinces, being not so entirely commercial 
as those that were more maritime, will be found on that account (for 
no other reason can be given) to have resisted the taxes of Alva 
less firmly. 

It is painful to follow the subject through all the more minute, but 
important, particulars that belong to it, and to observe the manner in 
which so many of the provinces could be practised upon and gained 
over, — could be soothed, deluded, or terrified, — could basely con- 
sent to submit to a certain part of the proposed requisitions, that 
is, to fit on such of the chains as they thought might possibly be 
borne, while the rest were to be left still hanging in the hands of 
their oppressors, ready to be applied on the first occasion, an occa- 
sion which they might be certain would so soon and so inevitably 
follow. 

Had it not been for the resistance of Brabant, and the still more 
intelligent and invariable firmness of the single province of Utrecht, 
all might have been lost ; and the bigoted, unfeeling Philip, though 
his subjects might no longer have been worth his ruling, would at 
least have had the gratification of seeing them bound and prostrate 
at his feet. The example, however, of Utrecht was not without its 
effect, and its resistance was fatal to the Spanish system of taxation. 
A distinction, it is true, may always be perceived between the seven 
northern, more commercial provinces, and the rest. The more 
southern and less commercial often observed a cold neutrality, and 
were even guilty of a species of hostiUty to the Prince of Orange 
and the patriotic cause, that was often but too convenient and favor- 
able to the Spanish arms. 

Cruelty and oppression were, however, destined at last to receive 
some lessons. Holland, Zealand, and five other of the more bold 
and virtuous provinces of the Low Countries, which with Brabant 
must always be distinguished from the rest, openly and steadily re- 
sisted. It is consoling to observe, that even the exiles, men whom 
Alva had reduced, as he supposed, to the condition of mere outcasts 
and pirates, too contemptible to interest his thoughts for a moment, 
were in fact the very men who gave strength and animation to the 



214 LECTURE XII. 

revolt ; and by their armed vessels, their enterprises, their extraordi- 
nary exertions by sea as well as by land, so shook, and injured, and 
endangered the Spanish greatness, that the entire independence of a 
part at least of the Low Countries was at last formally asserted. 

The military conduct of Alva is remarkable. In the field he was 
as calm and considerate as he was rash and intemperate in the cabi- 
net ; that is, he understood the science of war, but not of pohtics. 
Yet still he could not, even in arms, succeed. The opportunities for 
resistance afforded by the singular situation of the maritime provinces, 
the consummate prudence, the zeal, and the tolerant spirit of the 
Prince of Orange, were obstacles which he could not entirely over- 
come. The great towns in Holland, Haerlem and others, wei-e be- 
sieged, taken, and outraged by the most extraordinary excesses of 
cruelty and rapine ; but there were other towns that could not be 
taken. Holland, Zealand, and five other provinces, acknowledged 
the authority of the Prince of Orange, not of Philip ; and Alva at last 
retired, though the rebellion in the Low Countries was not put down, 
and neither his own vengeance nor that of his master as yet satiated. 
He consoled himself, we are told, with the reflection, that eighteen 
thousand heretics had suffered by the hands of the executioner, and 
a much greater number fallen by famine or the sword. 

It appears from this history, that concessions were made by the 
Spanish court ; but, as is usual in such contests, made too late. 
Orders had been sent by Philip to remit the taxes of the ten and 
twenty per cent., but not till the maritime provinces had already re- 
volted. After Alva, with his soldiers and executioners, had been let 
loose upon the provinces for nearly six years together, Philip began 
at last to doubt a little the efficacy of force, and to be disposed to 
send a new governor, in the person of Requesens, who might act on 
a more conciUating system. Requesens was a man of ability and 
moderation, and this last part of his character gave the Prince of 
Orange and the patriots the greatest apprehension, lest the Flemings 
should too readily forget the perfidy and cruelty of their oppressors. 
But Requesens not only came too late, but found it impossible to 
serve such a master as Phihp. 

I can, however, no longer continue this sort of narrative. After 
Requesens, followed a kind of interregnum, and the government of a 
Flemish council of state ; then, the administration of Don John of 
Austria ; lastly, that of the justly renowned Prince of Parma. 
Each of these administrations became an era in this great contest. 
Each has its particular events, and its own more striking, though not 
very dissimilar, lessons. I had drawn up observations on each of 
them. But I must omit all further allusion, not only to the facts of 
this contest, but to the contest itself. I must break away from the 
subject, for I must hasten to conclude my lecture. I am willing to 
hope that you will not only read the whole account in Watson, but 



THE LOW COUNTRIES. 215 

be prepared to make such observations on the events as they ought, 
I tliink, to excite in your minds. If I have succeeded to this extent, 
I am satisfied, and consider my office as at an end. 

To advert, therefore, to the final result of tliis great struggle, and 
to finish my lecture. 

The Prince of Orange, notwithstanding the defection of some, and 
the mutual jealousies of too many of the provinces, had contrived to 
form the Union of Utrecht, — a combination of seven of them ; and 
this union may be considered as the first foundation of the repubhc 
of Holland. 

It is difficult for unprincipled ambition to be prudent. Philip had 
not only schemes of tyranny in the Low Countries, but of invasion in 
England, and of aggrandizement in France. The multiplicity of his 
designs exhausted even liis American treasures ; the impossiljihty of 
his wishes squandered away even the resources of the genius of the 
Duke of Parma. The United Provmces were not subdued, England 
was not overcome, France was not united to his crown, and Europe 
was not subjected to the domination of the house of Austria. 

We have at last the satisfaction to see the seven maritime prov- 
inces, at least, treating with their oppressors as sovereign states ; and 
not only their independence admitted, but their trade with the Indies 
allowed, and their cause completely triumphant. 

These events, and particularly the negotiations for peace, may be 
seen in Bentivoglio and Wraxall, and may be considered with still 
greater advantage in Watson. Transactions of this nature are very 
deserving of attention ; and we cannot but be struck, not only with 
the active policy of Henry the Fourth of France, but with the virtu- 
ous exertions of the -wise Barneveldt, who, more successful than other 
patriots who resembled him have sometimes been, had the pure satis- 
faction of reasoning into peace his inflamed and improvident country- 
men. 

In the whole of this memorable contest, — a contest of half a cen- 
tury, — the great hero was the Prince of Orange, the great delin- 
quent was Philip the Second. The one may be proposed as a model, 
in pubUc and in private, of every thing that is good and great ; and 
the other, with the exception of attention to business, of every thing 
that is to be avoided and abhorred. 

To Europe and mankind, in the mean time, the success of the 
maritime provinces was of the greatest importance. The power of 
the house of Austria was for ever prevented from gaining too danger- 
ous an ascendency. Resistance to those who were controlling re- 
hgious opmions by fire and sword, and tramphng upon constitutional 
privileges, had been successfully made. An asylum was opened for 
all those, of whatever country, who fled from persecution, — from 
persecution of whatever kind. The benefit thus accruing to mankind 
cannot now be properly estimated, for we cannot now feel what it is 



216 LECTURE XIII. 

to have no refuge and no means of resistance, while men are ready 
to pmiish us for our opinions, and are making themselves inquisitors 
of our conduct. It is known to have been one of the severest mis- 
eries of the later Romans, that they could not escape from their gov- 
ernment, that the w^orld belonged to their emperors. It was in the 
Low Countries that the defenders of civil and religious liberty found 
shelter. It was there that they could state their complamts, publish 
what they conceived to be the truth, and maintain and exercise the 
privileges of free inquiry. These were the countries to which Locke 
retired, and where William the Third was formed. 

But this was not all. The wonders that can be effected by com- 
merce and the peaceful arts were displayed, and, on the whole, a 
practical example was held up to the princes and statesmen of every 
age and nation, well fitted to teach them many of those great truths 
which every friend of humanity would wish always present to their 
minds : that ambition should be virtuous and peaceful, that religious 
feelings should be tolerant, that government should be mild. 



LECTURE XIII. 



THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR. 

We have now made some progress in the history of this century 
of religious wars. We have considered the civil and religious wars 
of France ; next, those of the Low Countries. We must now turn to 
Germany. 

I have called this lecture a Lecture on the Thirty Years' War ; but 
I should rather have called it a Lecture on the Religious Concerns of 
Germany. The Thirty Years' War is, indeed, the most interesting 
portion of the whole, and that to which the attention of all readers of 
history has been more naturally directed ; but there is much to be 
read and considered before you reach the Thirty Years' War, and 
much after, or you will not be able to embrace in your minds the 
whole subject, — the subject of the religious concerns of Germany 
during the sixteenth century. In truth, I am to allude to such a 
mass of reading in this lecture, and allude to it so indistinctly, that I 
know not well how I can enable you to listen to what I am to address 
to you. 

It may assist you, perhaps, if you will first attend to the order in 
which I am going to proceed. It is the follomng: — 



THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR. 217 

The Reformation introduced great divisions of opinion into Ger- 
many. I must first allude to the contest that existed between the 
Catholics and Protestants, from the breaking out of the Reformation 
to the peace of Passau. 

At this peace of Passau, the interests of the contending parties 
were brought to an adjustment. I must therefore next allude to the 
provisions of that peace of Passau. 

But after some time this adjustment was no longer acquiesced in, 
and the Thirty Years' War followed. I must therefore allude to the 
causes which brought on the Thirty Years' War. 

This Thirty Years' War is a memorable era in history, and I must 
therefore allude to the conduct of it, and to the great hero of the 
Protestant cause on this occasion, Gustavus Adolphus. 

The peace of Westphalia was the termination of this great contest, 
and of the whole subject ; and I must therefore allude, finally, to the 
peace of Westphalia. 

The whole interval from the days of Luther to this peace of West- 
phalia, an interval of more than a century, must be considered as one 
continued struggle, open or concealed, between the Reformers and 
the Roman Catholics. The first period of this great contest extends 
to the peace of Passau ; the next, to the Thirty Years' War ; the 
Thirty Years' War is the third. The peace of AVestphalia is the 
final settlement of the whole. 

First, then, of the period that closed with the peace of Passau. I 
need neither, as I conceive, relate the facts, nor comment upon them, 
for you may study this part of the history yourselves in Robertson 
and Coxe, and it would be a waste of your time to offer you here, in 
a mutilated state, what you will find regularly displayed in those au- 
thors. I may, however, select what I consider as the leading events, 
and recommend you to fix your attention upon them. They are the 
following : — 

First, The denial of the authority of the Pope by Luther. 

Secondly, The total intolerance of Charles the Fifth, avowed in the 
edict of Worms. 

Thirdly, The resistance of the Protestants, and the exhibition of 
their own faith in the Confession of Augsburg. 

Fourthly, Their appeal to arms from the injustice of Charles, — 
the league of Smalkalden. 

Lastly, After the various events of unrighteous warfare, the religious 
peace concluded at Passau, in 1555,* about the close of his reign. 

These are the principal events. Y'^ou must consider them, particu- 

* The peace of Passau was concluded August 2, 1552. The date given in the text, 
1555, is that of the Recess of Augsburg, by wliich tlic treaty of Passau was conlirmed. 
It is to this Recess that the provisions noticed in the next page, particularly the 
'' Ecclesiastical Reservation," and the " declaration securing liberty of conscience to 
those who adopted the Confession of Augsburg," are to be referred. See Robertson's 
Charles V., Books x., xi., and Coxe's House of Austria, Ch. xxxi. — N. 



218 LECTURE XIII. 

larly the peace of Passau. On this last, as it is so important, I -will 
stop to make a few observations. 

It was the first great adjustment of the contending religious inter- 
ests of Germany. It was extorted from Charles the Fifth, and, on 
the whole, it was favorable to the great cause of religious freedom and 
the welfare of mankind. Those of the inferior sect Avere no longer 
to be insulted, dispersed, or exterminated ; they were to exist in so- 
ciety, as their Roman Cathohc brethren, erect and independent ; they 
were to worship their God in the manner they thought most agreeable 
to his word. Human authority in matters of religious faith was 
avowedly cast oflf by a large and respectable part of the Continent ; 
and neither the magistrate nor the soldier was any longer to un- 
sheathe the sword, to imprison, to massacre, or to drag to the stake. 

In practice, therefore, some progress had been made, — some prog- 
ress in practice, but little in the understandings or feelings of man- 
kind. The parties abstained from mutual violence, because they 
were well balanced, and feared each other, — not because they dis- 
cerned and acknowledged their mutual rights and duties. Not only 
were the Roman Catholics separated from the Protestants, but the 
Lutherans had separated themselves from the Zuinglians, afterwards 
called the Calvinists, and had endeavoured to stigmatize them with 
the name of Sacramentarians. That is, the Roman Catholics, the 
Lutherans, and Calvinists were all equally ready to believe that 
every religious opinion but their own was sinful, and therefore that 
their own, upon every principle of piety and reason, was at all events 
to be propagated, and every other repressed. 

Again, we have already observed that one of the great difficulties 
on this subject must always be the disposal of property to the ecclesi- 
astic : to which sect it is to be given by the state ; to one, or to all, 
and upon what conditions. This difficulty necessarily appeared at 
the pacification which was attempted at Passau. 

It was insisted by the Protestants, that all those who separated 
from the Church of Rome should, nevertheless, retain their ecclesias- 
tical emoluments, — emoluments, it must be observed, which had been 
received originally from the Roman Catholic establishment. By the 
Roman Catholics it was contended, on the contrary, that every such 
separatist should immediately lose his benefice. 

Tliis point could not, at the peace of Passau, be carried by the 
Protestants. They seem to have sullenly submitted, and to have 
virtually acquiesced in what was called the Ecclesiastical Reservation. 
This reservation secured the benefice, and left it to remain with the 
Catholic establishment when the holder turned Pi'otestant. 

The Protestants were consoled, on the other hand, by a declaration 
securing liberty of conscience to those who adopted the Confession 
of Augsburg, — a declaration which the Roman Catholics as little 
relished as the Protestants did the reservation just mentioned. 



THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR. 219 

The parties were, therefore, not as yet sufficiently religious and 
wise to settle the real subjects of contention. Then followed, after 
this peace of Passau, a sort of interval and pause. After this inter- 
val, all Germany was laid waste and convulsed by the Thirty Years' 
War. 

We naturally turn to ask what were the causes of so dreadful an 
event, — thirty years' war ; the very term is a disgrace to humanity. 
To this the answer will, I think, be found to be, first, the intolerant 
conduct of the Protestant princes to each other ; second, the bigotry, 
ambition, and arbitrary politics of the princes of the house of Austria. 
I will say a word on each. 

First, with regard to the conduct of the Protestant princes, Luther- 
an and Calvinistic. It will appear to those who examine the history, 
that the Protestant cause was well established at the peace of Passau, 
and at the death of Charles the Fifth ; but that it Avas afterwards 
nearly lost by the advantages wliich the Roman Catholic arms and 
politics derived from the dissensions which existed between the Lu- 
theran and Calvinistic princes. Though these princes had the most 
palpable bond of union (their wish to exercise the right of private 
judgment) , — though they were both equally opposed to the Catholic 
powers who would have denied them this inestimable privilege, yet 
was it impossible for them to differ in some mysterious points of doc- 
trine without a total disregard to mutual charity ; and each sect, 
rather than suffer the other to think differently from itself, was con- 
tented to run the chance of being overpowered by the Catholics, 
that is, of not being suffered to think at all. The Lutherans might 
possibly have been expected to be the most rational, that is, the most 
tolerant of the two ; but they were not so ; they were, in reality, 
more in fault than the Calvinists, — being not only the first aggres- 
sors in this dispute with their fellow-Protestants, but the more ready 
to temporize, to betray and desert the common cause. 

You will perceive that I am here obliged to leave great blanks be- 
hind me, as I go along, and you will perceive the same through every 
part of this lecture. These blanks must be hereafter filled up by 
your own dihgence. I cannot expect to make the steps I take 
through my subject very intelhgible at present ; but you will be able 
to judge of my arrangement, my statements, and my conclusions 
hereafter, when you come to read the history. 

I must, then, for the present, content myself with repeating to you, 
that the Protestant princes were themselves very faulty, more par- 
ticularly the Lutheran princes ; that their intolerance to each other 
was most unpardonable ; and that the conduct of some of the electoi'S 
of Saxony was very despicable, and most injurious to the Protestant 
cause ; and, finally, that all this folly and intolerance led to the ., 
Thirty Years' War. "7 

My next statement was, that the Thirty Years' War, and all its 



220 LECTURE XIII. 

dreadful scenes, were occasioned, in the second place, by the civil 
and religiovis politics, the bigoted and arbitrary conduct, of the princes 
of the house of Austria. 

Here, again, large blanks must be left. You can judge of these 
politics only by reading the reigns of those princes. I must refer 
you to the pages of Mr. Coxe. I will make, however, a few remarks. 

These princes were Ferdinand the First, Maximilian, Rodolph, 
Matthias, Ferdinand the Second. The character of Maximilian de- 
serves your notice. 

It is very agreeable to find among these Austrian princes one 
sovereign, at least, like Maximilian, whose conduct is marked by 
justice, wisdom, and benevolence, and whose administration realizes 
what an historian would propose as a model for all those who are 
called upon to direct the affairs of mankind. On this account I must 
observe, that there is no period connected with these religious wars 
that deserves more to be studied than these reigns of Ferdinand the 
First, Maximilian, and those of his successors who preceded the 
Thirty Years' War. We have no sovereign who exhibited that exer- 
cise of moderation and good sense which a philosopher would require, 
but Maximilian, and he was immediately followed by princes of a 
different complexion ; and as all the various sects themselves were 
ready from the first to display at any moment those faults which be- 
long to human nature, when engaged in rehgious concerns, the whole 
subject of toleration and mild government, its advantages and its 
dangers, and the advantages and dangers of an opposite system, are 
at once presented to our consideration ; and the only observation that 
remains to be made is this : that the difficulties and the hazards of 
the harsh and unjust system are increased and exasperated by their 
natural progress, while those that belong to the mild system are 
to be expected chiefly at first ; that they gradually disappear, and 
become less important, particularly as the world advances in civihza- 
tion and knowledge, and as the thoughts of men are more diversified 
by the active pursuits and petty amusements which multiply with 
their growing prosperity. 

Nothing could be more complete than the difficulty of toleration at 
the time Avhen Maximilian reigned ; and if a mild policy could be at- 
tended with favorable effects in his age and nation, there can be little 
fear of the experiment at any other period. No party or person in 
the state was then disposed to tolerate his neighbour from any sense 
of the justice of such forbearance, but from motives of temporal policy 
alone. The Lutherans, it will be seen, could not bear that the 
Calvinists should have the same religious privileges with themselves; 
the Calvinists were equally opinionated and unjust ; and Maximilian 
himself was probably tolerant and wise chiefly because he was in his 
real opinions a Lutheran, and in outward profession, as the head of 
the Empire, a Roman Catholic. 



THE THIRTY YEARS' ^YAR. 221 

For twelve years, the whole of his reign, he preserved the religious 
peace of the communitj, without destroying the religious freedom of 
the human mind. He supported the Roman CathoUcs, as the pre- 
dominant party, in all their rights, possessions, and privileges ; but 
he protected the Protestants in every exercise of their religion which 
was then practicable. In other words, he was as tolerant and just 
as the temper of society then admitted, and more so than the state 
of things would have suggested. Now more than this no considerate 
Christian or real philosopher will require from the sovereign power 
at any time ; not more than to countenance toleration, to be disposed 
to experiments of toleration, and to lead on to toleration, if the com- 
munity can but be persuaded to follow. More than this will not, I 
think, be required from the rulers of the world by any real philoso- 
pher and true Christian ; and tliis, not because the great cause of 
rehgious truth and inquiry is at all indifferent to them, (it must 
always be most dear to them,) but because they know that mankind 
on these subjects are profoundly ignorant and incurably irritable. 
The merit of Maximilian was but too apparent the moment that his 
son Rodolph was called upon to supply his place. 

The tolerance and forbearance of Maximilian had been favorable, 
as it must always be, to the better cause ; but the Protestants, in- 
stead of being encouraged by the visible progress of their tenets, 
and thereby induced to leave them to the sure operation of time and 
the silent influence of truth, had broken out with all the stupid fury 
that often belongs to an inferior sect, and indulged themselves in the 
most public attacks and unqualified invectives against the Established 
Church. The gentle, but powerful, hand of Maximilian was now 
withdrawn ; and he had made one most fatal and unpardonable mis- 
take : he had always left the education of his son and successor too 
much to the discretion of his bigoted consort. Rodolph, his son, was 
therefore as ignorant and furious, on his part, as were the Protes- 
tants on theirs ; he had immediate recourse to the usual expedients, 
— force, and the execution of the laws to the very letter. It is 
needless to add, that injuries and mistakes quickly multiplied as he 
proceeded ; and Maximilian himself, had he been recalled to life, 
would have found it difficult to extricate his unhappy sons and his 
unfortunate people from the accumulated calamities which it had been 
the great glory of his OAvn reign so skilfully to avert. 

After Rodolph comes Matthias, and, unhappily for all Europe, 
Bohemia and the Empire fell afterwards under the management of 
Ferdinand the Second. Of the different Austrian princes, it is the 
reign of Ferdinand the Second that is more particularly to be con- 
sidered. 

Such was the arbitrary nature of his government over his subjects 
in Bohemia, that they revolted. They elected for their king the 
young Elector Palatine, hopmg thus to extricate themselves from the 

s* 



222 LECTURE XIII. 

bigotry and tyranny of Ferdinand. This crown, so offered, was ac- 
cepted ; and in the event, the cause of the Bohemians became the 
cause of the Reformation in Grermany, and the Elector Palatine 
the hero of that cause. It is this which gives the great interest to 
this reign of Ferdinand the Second, to these concerns of his subjects 
in Bohemia, and to the character of this Elector Palatine ; for all 
these events and circumstances led to the Thirty Years' War. I 
cannot here explain to you the particular circumstances which pro- 
duced such unexpected effects as I have now stated, but you may 
study them in Coxe and other historians. 

We thus arrive at the Thirty Years' War. I will, however, turn 
for a moment to this Elector Palatine. This is the prince who was 
connected with our own royal family. He was married to the daugh- 
ter of our James the First. 

You will see, even in our own historians, the great interest which 
the Protestant cause in Germany, to which I am obliged so in- 
distinctly to allude, excited in England, as well as in all the rest of 
Europe. 

The history of the Elector Palatine is very affecting ; you will 
read it in Coxe. He accepted, you may remember, the crown which 
was offered to him by the Bohemians ; he was unworthy of it ; he 
accepted it in an evil hour. 

It must be confessed that the difficulties of those in exalted station 
are peculiarly great. It is the condition of their existence, that the 
happiness of others shall depend on them, — shall depend not only 
on the high quahties of their nature, their generosity, their courage, 
but on the endowments of their minds, their prudence, their fore- 
sight, their correct judgment, their accurate estimates, not only of 
others, but of themselves. So unfortunately are they situated, that 
their ambition may be even generous and noble, and yet their char- 
acters be at last justly marked with the censure of mankind. 

The Elector Palatine, by accepting the crown of Bohemia, became, 
as I have just observed, under the existing circumstances of Germa- 
ny, the chief of the Protestant cause ; but he undertook a cause so 
important, and he suffered the lives and liberties of thousands to de- 
pend on his firmness and ability, without ever having properly exam- 
ined his own character, or considered to what situations of difficulty 
his powers were equal. When, therefore, the hour of trial came, 
when he was weighed in the balance, he was found wanting, and his 
kingdom was divided from him. Had he himself been alone inter- 
ested in his success, his subsequent sufferings might have atoned for 
his fault ; but the kingdom of Bohemia was lost to its inhabitants, 
the Palatinate to its own subjects, and the great cause of religious 
inquiry and truth might also have perished in the general wreck of 
his fortunes. 

But in the reign of the same Ferdinand the Second, there arose, 



THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR. 223 

in the same cause in which the Elector Palatine had failed, a hero of 
another cast, — Gustavus Adolphus. 

And now to recapitulate a little, that you may see the connecting 
links of this part of the subject, in which I am obliged to leave such 
blanks. You will have understood in a general manner, and I must 
now remind you, that the house of Austria was the terror of the 
Protestants of Germany ; that Ferdinand the Second oppressed by 
his tyranny and bigotry his Protestant subjects, more particularly in 
Bohemia ; that their cause became the cause of the Protestant inter- 
est in Germany ; that the Elector Palatine was the first hero of this ^ (i,!K>^^^ 
great cause, and that he failed ; that the illustrious Swede was the 'H ' 
second, and that he deserved the high office wliich he bore, — that ' 
he deserved to be the defender of the civil and religious liberties of 
Europe, and that he was the great object of admiration in the Thirty 
Years' War. 

Of this Thirty Years' War it is not at all necessary that I should 
speak here, even if I had time, which I have not, because the 
particulars are so interesting, that I can depend upon your reading 
them. You will do so, I beg to assure you, with great pleasure, 
if you once turn to them. The narrative and detail you will find 
in Coxe. 

The campaigns of Gustavus, his victories, his death, — the cam- 
paigns of the generals he left behind, — the campaigns of the Aus- , 
trian generals, the celebrated Tilly, the still more celebrated Wal- 
lenstein, — particulars respecting these subjects, and many others 
highly attractive, you will find in Coxe and in Harte, and to these 
authors I must leave you. I will make, however, a few remarks, and 
first of Gustavus. 

As it must needs be that offences will come, as violence and injus- 
tice can be repelled only by force, as mankind must and will have 
their destroyers, it is fortunate when the high courage and activity 
of which the human character is capable are tempered with a sense 
of justice, wisdom, and benev^olence, — when he who leads thousands 
to the field has sensibility enough to feel the nature of his awful 
office, and wisdom enough to take care that he directs against its 
proper objects the afflicting storm of human devastation. It is not 
always that they who have commanded the admiration of mankind 
have claims like these to their applause. Courage and sagacity can 
dignifv any man, whatever be his cause ; they can ennoble a wretch 
like Tilly, while he fights the battles of a Ferdinand. It is not 
always that these great endowments are so united with other high 
qualities as to present to the historian at once a Christian, a soldier, 
and a statesman ; yet such was Gustavus Adolphus, a hero deserving 
the name, pei-fectly distinguishable from those who have assumed the 
honors that belong to it, the military executioners with whom every 
age has been infested. 



224 LECTURE XIII. 

The life of this extraordinary man has been written by Mr. Harte, 
with great activity of research, and a scrupulous examination of his 
materials, which are understood to be the best, though they are not 
sufficiently particularized. The book will disappoint the reader; 
Mr. Ilarte writes often with singularly bad taste, and never with 
any masterly display of his subject ; but it may be compared with 
Coxe, and must be considered. 

The great question which it is necessary for the fame of Gustavus 
should be settled in his favor is the invasion of Germany. Sweden, 
the country of which he was king, could, at the time, furnish for the 
enterprise only her two great products, " iron and man, the soldier 
and his sword " ; and with these, a leader like Gustavus, some cen- 
turies before, might have disposed of Europe at his pleasure ; but, 
happily for mankind, the invention of gunpowder and the progress of 
science had made war a question, not merely of physical force, but 
of expense. The surplus produce of the land and labor of the 
snowy regions of Sweden was little fitted to support a large military 
establishment either at home or abroad, little fitted to contend with 
the resources of the house of Austria. It was, therefore, very nat- 
ural for the counsellors of Gustavus to represent strongly to their 
sovereign the expenses of a war on the Continent, the great power 
of the emperor, and the reasonableness of supposing that the Ger- 
man electors were themselves the best judges of the affairs of the 
Empire, and the best able to vindicate their own civil and religious 
liberties. 

But it was clear, on the other hand, that the power of the house 
of Austria, which had already distantly menaced, might soon be en- 
abled to oppress, the civil and religious liberties of Sweden ; it was 
impossible to separate the interests of that kingdom from those of the 
Pi'otestant princes of Germany ; and therefore the only (Question 
that remained was, whether Gustavus should come forward as a 
leader of the combination against Ferdinand the Second, or wait to 
be called in, and join the general cause as an auxiliary. 

Now the prince who was naturally the head of the Protestant 
union was the Elector of Saxony, a prince whose politics and con- 
duct at the time could awaken, in the minds of good men, only 
contempt and abhorrence. If, therefore, no one interfered, and that 
immediately, all was lost ; and the very want of a principal, and 
the very hopelessness of the Protestant cause, must have been the 
very arguments that weighed most with a prince like Gustavus, 
and were, indeed, the very arguments that would have influenced 
an impartial reasoner, at the time, in favor of this great attempt, 
provided the abilities of Gustavus were clearly of a commanding 
nature. 

On this last supposition, it must also be allowed that the case, 
when examined, supplied many important probabilities to coun- 



THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR. 225 

tenance the enterprise. Speculations of this kind you should in- 
dulge as much as possible, while you are engaged in historical pur- 
suits ; it ia the difference between reading history and studying it. 

After all, it is often for genius to justify its own projects by 
their execution ; and such may, if necessary, be the defence of 
Gustavus. 

If any war can be generous and just, it is that waged by a combi- 
nation of smaller states against a greater in defence of their civil and 
religious hberty. Such was the contest in which Gustavus Avas to 
engage. Nothing, therefore, could be wanting to him but success. 
He won it by his virtues and capacity, and his name has been justly 
consecrated in the history of mankind. 

It sometimes happens, that, when the master hand is removed, the 
machine stops, or its movements run into incurable disorder ; but 
Gustavus was greater than great men : when Gustavus perished, his 
cause did not perish with him. The mortal part of the hero lay 
covered with honorable wounds and breathless in the plains of Lut>- 
zen ; but his genius still lived in the perfect soldiers he had created, 
the great generals he had formed, the wise minister he had employ- 
ed, and the senate and people of Sweden, whom he had elevated to 
his own high sense of honor and duty. Neither his generals, his sol- 
diers, his minister, nor his people, were found so vmworthy of their 
sovereign as to be daunted by his loss, and they were not to be de- 
terred from the prosecution of the great cause wliich he had be- 
queathed them. The result was, that sixteen years afterwards, at 
the peace of Westphalia, Sweden was a leading power in the general 
settlement of the interests of Europe ; and if Gustavus had yet 
lived, he would have seen the very ground on which he first landed, 
Avith only fourteen thousand men to oppose the numerous and regular 
armies of the house of Austria, publicly ceded to his crown, the 
power of that tyrannical and bigoted family confessedly humbled, 
and the independence and religion of his own kingdom sufficiently 
provided for in the emancipation and safety of the Protestant princes 
of Germany. 

In considering the reign and merits of Gustavus, our attention 
may be properly directed to the following points : — the invasion of 
Germany, the improvements which the king made in the military art, 
the means whereby he could support his armies, the causes of his 
success, his conduct after the victory of Leipsic, his management of 
men and of the circumstances of his situation, liis private virtues and 
public merits, his tolerance, and the nature of his ambition, — how 
far it was altered l)y his victories, — the service he rendered Europe. 
Much assistance is contained, rather than presented to the reader, in 
the work of Ilarte. 

The history of the Thirty Years' War has been written by Schil- 
ler ; and when this era has been considered in the more simple and 
29 



226 LECTURE XIII. 

regular historians, the performance of this celebrated writer may be 
perused, not only with great entertainment, but with some advantage. 
Indeed, any work by Schiller must naturally claim our perusal ; but 
neither is his account so intelligible nor are his opinions so just as 
those of our own historian, Coxe. 

The extraordinary character of Wallcnstein — the great general 
who could alone be opposed by Ferdinand to Gustavus — was sure 
to catch the fancy of a German dramatist like Schiller. Here, for 
once, were realized all the darling images of the scene : mystery 
without any possible solution ; energy more than human, magnifi- 
cence without bounds, distinguished capacity ; gloom, silence, and 
terror ; injuries and indignation ; nothing ordinary, nothing rational; 
and at last, probably a conspiracy, and, at least, an assassination. 

The campaigns of Gustavus, and the military part of his history, 
will be found more than usually interesting. Coxe has labored this 
portion of the narrative with great diligence, and, as he evidently 
thinks, with great success. 

We are now arrived at the conclusion of our subject, and I have 
been obliged to refer to such large masses of historical reading, and 
must have left so many spaces unoccupied in the minds of my hear- 
ers, that I think it best to stop and recall to your observation the 
steps of our progress, and advert to the leading points. 

The whole of our present subject, then, should, I think, be sepa- 
rated into the following great divisions : — First, we are to examine 
the contest between the Roman Catholics and the Reformers, from 
the breaking out of the Reformation to the peace of Passau. Then, 
the provisions of that peace. Next, the causes of the Thirty Years' 
War, — which were, first, the conduct of the Protestant states and 
princes, Lutheran and Calvinistic, from the death of Charles the 
Fifth, and their impohtic and fatal intolerance of each other ; sec- 
ondly, the conduct of the princes of the house of Austria, Ferdinand 
the First, Maximilian, Rodolph, Matthias, and Ferdinand the Second, 
more particularly their intolerance to their subjects in Bohemia and 
Hungary. Then, the peculiar circumstances in consequence of 
which the cause of the Bohemians and the oppressed subjects of the 
house of Austria became at length the cause of the Reformation in 
Germany, and the Elector Palatine the hero of it. Next, the misfor- 
tunes of that prince. Then, the interference and character of the re- 
nowned Gustavus Adolphus, the great and efficient hero of that cause, 
and of the Thirty Years' War, at which we thus arrive. Then, the 
campaigns between him and the celebrated generals (Tilly and oth- 
ers) employed by the Austrian family, which form a new point of 
interest. Again, the continuance of the contest after his death, 
under the generals and soldiers he had formed, which becomes 
another. And in this manner we are conducted to the settlement of 
the civil and religious differences of Germany by the treaty of West- 



THE THIRTY YEARS' AVAR. 227 

phalia, more than one hundred years after the first appearance of 
Luther, which treaty is thus left as the remaining object of our curi- 
osity and examination, for it is the termination of the whole subject. 

This celebrated treaty has always been the study of those who 
wish to understand the history of Europe, and the different views and 
systems of its component powers and states. There are references 
in Coxe sufficient to direct the inquiries of those who are desirous of 
examining it. But during the late calamities of Europe, after being 
an olject of the greatest attention for a century and a half, it has 
shared the fate of every thing human ; it has passed through its ap- 
pointed period of existence, and is now no more. As a great record, 
however, in the history of Europe, — as a great specimen of what 
human nature is, when acting amid its larger and more important 
concerns, it must ever remain a subject of interest to the politician 
and philosopher. This treaty was the final adjustment of the civil 
and religious disputes of a century. 

In examining the treaty of Westphalia, the first inquiry is with re- 
spect to its ecclesiastical provisions. 

After the Reformation had once begun, the first effort of the Prot- 
estants was to put themselves into a state of respect, and to get 
themselves acknowledged by the laws of the Empire. In this they 
succeeded at the peace of Passau. 

But the Ecclesiastical Reservation, as I have before mentioned, had 
then ordained, that, if a Roman Catholic turned Protestant, his bene- 
fice should be lost to him. Truth, therefore, had no equal chance ; 
a serious impediment was thrown in the way, not only of conviction, 
but of all avowal of conviction, and even of all religious inquiry. 
For with what candor, with what ardor, was any ecclesiastic to in- 
quire, when the result of his inquiry might be, that he would have to 
lose, not only his situation in society, but his accustomed means of 
subsistence ? This point, however, could never be carried by the 
Protestants. 

The Roman Catholics considered the Reservation as the bulwark 
of their faith, and found no difficulty in persuading the people, and 
more particularly the rulers of the people, that their cause was the 
cause of all true rehgion and good government. At the peace of 
Westphalia, therefore, it was agreed, that, if a Catholic turned Prot- 
estant, he should lose his benefice as before, and the same if a Prot- 
estant turned Catholic. But it will be observed, that to make the 
last provision was, in fact, to do nothing ; for the Protestant was the 
invading sect. There was no chance of the Protestant's turning 
Roman Catholic, and the only question of practical importance was, 
whether the Catholic might be allowed to open his eyes, and, if he 
thought good, turn Protestant, without suffering in his fortunes ; this 
he could not. The eyes of the Protestant were already opened. 

The great cause, therefore, of religious inquiry at least (there was, 



228 LECTURE Xin. 

no doubt, a great difficulty in the case) failed, — but not entirely. 
For the inroads that the Protestants had made on the Catholic eccle- 
siastical property, during the first century of the Reformation, down, 
for instance, to the year 1624, were not inconsiderable ; and in the 
possessions which they had thus obtained they were not to be dis- 
turbed. A certain progress, — an important progress, — was there- 
fore made and secured. 

Again, what is very remarkable, the civil rights of the Protestants, 
their equality with their Catholic brethren on all public occasions, in 
the Diet and other tribunals, were allowed. This was an important 
victory ; far more than inferior sects have always been able to ob- 
tain, — more than they have obtained, for instance, in our own coun- 
try ; far more than can be accounted for by any influence which 
moderation and good sense could have had upon the contending 
parties. 

Another result took place : the Calvinists and Lutherans contrived 
at last to consider themselves as one body, whose business it was, 
during the negotiations of the peace and ever after, to provide for 
their common security, while equally resisting the authority of the 
Church of Rome. This, too, was an important victory, — a victory 
which the two sects obtained, not over their enemies, but over them- 
selves ; partly in consequence of their past suffermgs ; still more from 
the influence of their own worldly politics ; above all, from the master 
interference of France, whose ministers, equally disregarding the dis- 
tinctions between Lutheran and Cahdnist, and the cause of Protestant 
and Papist, wished only to subdue the house of Austria, and to com- 
bine and manage every party so as to produce this grand efiect, 
the object of all their pohtics, — the humiliation of the house of 
Austria. 

The future progress of religious truth seems to have been but 
loosely provided for. A prince was allowed to change or reform the 
religion of his dominions in all cases not limited by the treaty or 
settled by antecedent compact "with the subject. The truth is, that 
a question like this last was too dehcate to be adjusted by any formal 
ordinance in an age of religious wars, or indeed in any age. 

The general principle adopted by the treaty seems to have been, 
to confirm every thing in the state in which it was left by the year 
1624, — an arrangement that must, on the whole, be considered 
favorable to the Protestants, far more so than could have been ex- 
pected, if we reflect on their own unfortunate intolerance of each 
other, and the difficulty, at all times, of sustaining a combination of 
smaller powers against a greater. 

The great gainer in this contest was France ; the great sufferer, 
the house of Austria. The grandeur of the one was advanced, and the 
ambition of the other was for ever humbled. A combination against 
the house of Austria had been long carried on with more or less 



THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR. 229 

re<nilarity and effect, but chiefly by the influence of France. The 
result of this united effort was seen in the peace of Westphalia. 

It is painful to think that the establishment of the civil and re- 
ligious liberties of Germany was owing, not to the generous, rational, 
steady resistance of the Protestant princes, but much more to the 
anxiety of France to depress the house of Austria ; and again, to the 
check which that house of Austria continually experienced to its de- 
signs, and Avas still likely to experience, from the arms of the Otto- 
man princes. In this manner it happened, that, for the religious 
part of the great treaty of Westphalia, for such toleration, good 
sense, and Christianity as are to be found there, mankind were, after 
all, indebted principally to such strange propagators of the cause of 
truth and free inquiry as Richelieu and the Mahometans. 

By the treaty of Westphalia, the apprehensions which Europe had 
so long entertained of the power of the house of Austria were, as I 
have just mentioned to you, removed. But it is the great misfortune 
of mankind, that the balance is no sooner restored by the diminishing 
of one exorbitant power than it is again in danger by the preponder- 
ancy of another. From this epoch of the peace of Westphalia, the 
real power to be dreaded was no longer the house of Austria, but 
France ; and the ambition of her cabinets, the compactness of her 
possessions, the extent of her resources, and the genius of her people 
soon converted into the enemy of the happiness of the world that 
very nation which at the peace of Westphalia appeared, and but ap- 
peared., in the honorable character of the protectress of the civil and 
religious liberties of Germany, and the mediatrix of the dissensions 
of a century. 

In the Empire, the different states and princes were now more pro- 
tected than before from the emperor, but they were not harmonized 
mto a whole, nor was it possible that a number of petty sovereigns 
should be influenced by any general principle. It was impossible 
that they should either form themselves into any limited monarchy, 
or fill into any system, which, however it might have advanced the 
substantial greatness of all, would have diminished the personal 
splendor and fancied importance of each individual potentate. They 
therefore continued in their common form of union and law, and en- 
deavoured to maintain the independence of the several princes and 
states by a league for their common interest ; but this league could 
not possibly be made sufiiciently binding and effective to secure that 
common interest, while they were exposed to the practices of foreign 
mtriguc, not only from their situation, but from the improvident self- 
ishness which belongs as well to states as to individuals. Thus it 
happened, that France, or any other power, found it easy at all times 
to convert a portion of the strength of Germany to its own purposes. 
Thus it happened that this immense division of the most civilized por- 
tion of the world never rose to that external consequence, and what 

T 



230 LECTURE XIII. 

is more, never to that state of internal improvement and happiness, 
which, under favorable circumstances, it might certainly have real- 
ized. 

I must now make two general observations, and conclude : first, on 
the house of Austria ; secondly, on the peace of Westphalia. 

There is no pleasure in reading the history of these princes of the 
house of Austria. At the most critical period of the world they 
were the greatest impediments to its improvement ; every resistance 
possible was made to the Reformation by Charles the Fiftli. Philip 
the Second is proverbial for his tyranny and bigotry. If we turn 
from the Spanish to the German line of this house, we see nothing, 
except in one instance (that of Maximilian), but the most blind and 
unfeeling hostility to the civil and religious rights of mankind. In 
this line are numbered Ferdinand the First, Maximilian, Rodolph, 
Matthias. Ferdinand the First we see always employed in tyranniz- 
ing over his kingdoms of Hungary and Bohemia. In his measures 
we can discern only the most continued violation of every principle 
which should animate a legislator. Instead of rational attempts to 
train up the bold privileges of a rude people into some political sys- 
tem, properly modified and adapted to the dispensation of more se- 
cure and practical freedom, we see force and fury, and command and 
authority, and all the machinery of harsh and arbitrary government, 
drawn out and employed to harass, subjugate, and destroy a spirited 
people, — a people that deserved a better fate, by no means incapa- 
ble of attachment to their rulers, and perfectly susceptible of a sin- 
cere and ardent devotion to their Creator. 

Was there any worldly policy in such outrages and injustice ? In- 
stead of affectionate and zealous subjects, to be interposed between 
the dearest possessions of the house of Austria and the Turks, men 
were to be seen ever ready only to break out into insurrection (mu- 
tinous chiefs), rebels to the power of the crown, candidates for the 
crown itself, — men who were the sources of terror and embarrassment 
to the Empire, not its defenders, or the guardians of the general 
security and repose. 

Nothing better can be said of Rodolph the Second and Matthias ; 
and Ferdinand the Second, imder whom the Thirty Years' War 
broke out, was, as nearly as human bigotry and tyranny would ad- 
mit, the very counterpart of Philip the Second of Spain. IMen like 
these should be pointed out in history to statesmen and to sovereigns, 
as examples of all that they should in their public capacities avoid, 
not imitate. And this lesson is the more important, because these 
princes were not only men of princely virtues, of elevation of mind 
in adversity, of patience and of fortitude, and of great attention to 
business, but men of very sincere, though mistaken, piety ; Ferdi- 
nand the Second, more particularly, while his public conduct ex- 
hibited the most unprincipled lust of power and the most unfeeling 



THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR. 231 

bigotry, was in private life the best of fathers, of husbands, and of 
masters ; and whenever the religion of mercy was not concerned, 
was merciful and forgiving. 

My second observation is connected with the treaty of Westphalia, 
and relates to the general condition and progress of the religious and 
political happiness of mankind. What is the history of that religious 
and political happiness, the history as here presented to us, in this 
final adjustment by the peace of Westphalia ? Consider it. 

A spirit of religious inquiry had been excited in a monk of Wit- 
tenberg ; and so prepared had been mankind at the time, that this 
spirit had passed from his closet and solitary thoughts into the cabi- 
nets and the councils, the mmd and the feelings, of Europe. What, 
then, was at last the result ? What were the provisions of the treaty 
of Westphalia ? Did not the cause of reason and of truth every- 
where prevail, and was not a new profession of religious faith every- 
where the consequence ? Not so. 

Again, a great family had arisen in Europe, arbitrary and am- 
bitious, — the family of the house of Austria. Did not all the states 
and powers whose interests could be affected instantly unite in a 
common cause, and, without difficulty, restrain and diminish the 
power of this universal enemy ? Not exactly so ; not with such 
readiness, not with such ease. 

Again, the whole regions of Germany were parcelled out among a 
number of cities and states, of princes and powers, ecclesiastical and 
secular. Did not the different parts and members of a system so 
unfitted for mutual advancement and strength coalesce into some 
general form, some great limited monarchy, wliich might have pro- 
tected the whole, not only from themselves, but from the great mon- 
archies of France and Spain on the one side, and the Turkish arms 
on the other ? Not so. 

In answer to all such inquiries, it must be confessed that the 
affairs of mankind cannot be made to run in these regular channels, 
or their jarring interests and prejudices be moulded into the con- 
venient and beautiful forms which a philosophic mind might readily 
propose. Some effort, some approximation to a reasonable conduct 
in mankind, is generally visible ; a struggle between light and dark- 
ness ; from time to time an amelioration, an improvement, — at the 
period of the Reformation, for instance, — no doubt, an advance 
most distinct and important ; the seeds of human prosperity, after 
each renovation of the soil, somewhat more plentifully scattered ; the 
harvests continually less and less overpowered by the tares. All 
this is discernible as we journey down the great tract of history, and 
more than this is perhaps but seldom to be perceived. 

But what, then, is the practical conclusion from the whole ? That 
the virtue of those men is only the greater, who, in the midst of dif- 
ficulty and discouragement, labor much, though they have been 



232 LECTURE XIV. 

taught by reading, reflection, and perhaps experience, to expect but 
little ; who, whatever may be the failures of themselves or others in 
their endeavours to serve their fellow-creatures, are neither depressed 
into torpor, nor exasperated into misanthropy ; who take care to de- 
serve success, but who do not think that success is necessary to their 
merit ; who fix their eyes steadily on the point of duty, and never 
cease, according to the measure of the talents with which they are 
intrusted by their Creator, to unite their efforts and embark their 
strength in the great and constant cause of wise and good men, the 
advancement of the knowledge and the virtue, that is, in other 
words, of the happiness, of their species. 



LECTURE XIV. 

HENRY THE EIGHTH. — ELIZABETH.— JAMES THE 
FIRST. — CHARLES THE FIRST. 

We must now turn to England. During the reign of a prince so 
respected for his courage and understanding, and so tyrannical in his 
nature, as Henry the Eighth, in the interval between the decline of 
the aristocracy and the rise of the commons, the constitution of Eng- 
land seems to have been exposed to the most extreme danger ; and 
if Henry had lived longer, or if his successor had resembled him in 
capacity and disposition, this island, like France, might have lost its 
liberties for ever. 

It appears that the slavish submission of Parliaments had proceed- 
ed, at length, to allow to the proclamations of the king an authority 
which, notwithstanding the remarkable limitations annexed to it, 
might eventually have been extended, in practice, to the destruction 
of all other authority in the realm. It is true that this act was not 
obtained till the thirty-first of his reign, and within a few years of 
his death ; but in about ten years after his accession, it appears from 
Lord Herbert, who wrote a life of him, that he had " caused a 
general muster or description to be made of all his kingdom ; com- 
manding that they should certify, &c., the yearly value of every 
man's land ; as also the stock on the lands, and who was owner there- 
of, &c. ; also the value and substance of every person being above 
sixteen years old." (Herbert, p. 122, ann. 1522.) In consequence 
whereof he demanded a loan, &c., from his subjects, not fresh sup- 
plies from the Commons ; so that the intentions of the king and 
his Council were sufficiently clear. 



HENRY THE EIGHTH. 233 

But there can be no stronger testimony to the right of the houses 
of Parhament to tax, or rather to concur in the taxation of the peo- 
ple, than tlie result of the utmost efforts of the king and Cardinal 
Wolsey to obtain money without their sanction. " All which extra- 
ordinary ways of furnishing the present necessities," says the his- 
torian, "yet ended in a Parliament the next year."* In this next 
year, it seems, the cardinal himself personally interfered in the House 
of Commons, and the particulars are very curious. On the whole, the 
king, as it afterwards appeared, could direct and limit the Reforma- 
tion at his will, — could manage at his pleasure the morality and re- 
ligion of the commons, but not their property. 

In 1525, an attempt was made once more to raise money without 
Parliament. But the people showed the spirit of Enghshmen ; for, 
while they pleaded their own poverty, they alleged, in the first 
place, " that these commissions were against the law " (Herbert, p. 
162) ; and the king at last disavowed the whole proceedings, " and 
by letters," says the historian, " sent through all the counties of 
England, declared he would have nothing of them but by way of 
benevolence." Even with respect to the benevolence, the narrative, 
as given by Herbert, is curious ; still more so, when a benevolence 
was again tried, and again clearly resisted, in 1544. Opposition was 
constantly made, though the judges authorized this expedient in the 
former instance, and though, in the latter. Read, a magistrate of the 
city, who refused compliance, v/as, by a great outrage, sent to serve 
in the wars against the Scots, and treated in a manner perfectly 
atrocious. It always appears that it was necessary to have recourse 
to Parliament, and the king in his last words, though the most de- 
cided and detestable of tyrants, " thanked them, because they had, 
freely of their owi minds, granted to him a certain subsidy." 
Slavish, therefore, and base as these Parliaments were, the members 
of them did not entirely forfeit the character of Englishmen. 

With respect, however, to the great point of the very existence of 
our legislative assemblies, it is to be observed, that, from the violent, 
cruel, and unprincipled measures into which Henry was so repeat- 
edly hurried, he had continually to apply to his Parliaments, which 
kept up the use of them at this most critical era in our constitution. 
In France, on the contrary, Francis the Fii'st could always contrive 
to do without his national assemblies ; a circumstance which most 

* In the previous edirions of these Lectures, both English and American, the pas- 
sage here quoted stands as follows : — " All which extraordinary ways of finighing tho 
present usurpations ended in a Parliament the next year." We may unhesitatingly 
affirm that Professor Smyth could not have consciously substituted expressions of so 
widely different import from the original, — if, indeed, tlie sentence as altered can be 
said to have any intelligible meaning. Tliat lie in fact ^M-ote as in tlie text, and that 
the alteration was jmrely an error of the press, we can hardly doubt, when we con- 
sider the manuscrijit form of the words here changed, and the ambiguous appear- 
ance which they might easily have assumed in cursory ^mting. — N. 

30 T* 



234 LECTURE XIV. 

unhappily, and most materially, contributed to their decline and 
fall. 

In England, on the death of Henry, the real nature of the con- 
stitution was immediately shown. The very first years of the minor- 
ity of his son, Edward the Sixth, produced repeals of those acts 
which had violated the acknowledged Hberties of the country. But 
a bad minister could so impose upon the excellent nature even of 
Edward the Sixth, as to cause him to issue, at the close of his reign, 
a proclamation intended to influence the election of members of Par- 
liament ; a precedent which was sure to be followed by such a prin- 
cess as Mary, and afterwards, though probably with less ill intention, 
by James the First. So innumerable are the perils to which the lib- 
erties of the subject are always exposed. 

I hasten to the reign of Elizabeth. " In order to understand," 
says Mr. Hume, " the ancient constitution of England, there is not a 
period which deserves more to be studied than the reign of Eliza- 
beth." And it happens, that there can be no period of our history 
which may be more thoroughly studied. Camden has written her 
life. There are very valuable collections of letters and papers; you 
may trace them in the references of Hume and Rapin ; and many 
curious and amusing, and sometimes important, particulars have 
been lately drawn from these sources and presented to the ordinary 
reader in a very agreeable and sensible manner by Miss Aikin, 
in her Memoirs of the Reign of Queen Elizabeth. It is, how- 
ever, the constitutional part of this history alone that I can myself 
allude to. 

Hume, after making the remark I have alluded to, proceeds to 
state the very arbitrary nature of the constitution, as exhibited in 
the conduct and maxims of that queen, and of the ministers at that 
time. On the whole, he makes out a strong case to show the exist- 
ence of such tribunals, such principles, and such practices, as seem 
in themselves totally inconsistent with all civil freedom, however 
qualified the idea which we should affix to the term. 

But this reign, it must on the other hand be remembered, not only 
exhibits (as Hume endeavours to prove) the strength and extent of 
the royal prerogative, but also unveils and shows, though at a dis- 
tance, all those more popular principles which equally belonged to 
the constitution of England, and all those reasonings and maxims, 
and even parties and descriptions of patriotism, which grew up after- 
wards into such visible strength and form, during the reigns of her 
successors, James and Charles. For instance, and to illustrate both 
views of the constitution, — the arbitrary and the popular nature of 
it, — whatever concerned the royal prerogative was considered by 
Elizabeth as forbidden ground, and she included within this descrip- 
tion, in a religious age, every thing that related to the management 
of religion, to her particular courts, and to the succession to the 



ELIZABETH. 236 

crown ; she insisted, in her own words, " that no bills touching mat- 
ters of state, or reformation in causes ecclesiastical, be exhibited." 
(Cobbett, p. 889.) 

This will give you some idea of Hume's view of the reign, and of 
the arbitrary nature of it ; and certainly it is quite disgusting to ob- 
serve the slavish submission of some of the greatest men that our 
country has produced to the authority and caprices of this female 
sovereign, — the manner in which they became her knights, rather 
than her statesmen, — and the sort of scuffle which the court exhib- 
ited, between men of the first capacities and highest qualities, for 
mere patronage and power, rather than for any worthier olyects con- 
nected with the civil and religious liberties of their country and of 
mankind. But, on the other hand, and in opposition to the views 
of Hume, it must be remarked, that, from the nature of Elizabeth's 
pretensions and claims, such as I have just alluded to, it certainly 
did happen that the members of the Commons did often offend her 
by their words, and were sometimes brought into direct collision with 
her supposed authority by the measures they proposed, — that a real 
struggle ensued, and that Elizabeth, with becoming wisdom, generally 
gave way. 

On the whole, all the particulars that make up the constitutional 
history of this reign cannot, in a lecture like this, be even alluded to ; 
nor is it possible that any one can acquire, by any other means than 
the perusal of the history, that general impression which the whole 
conveys. I have, therefore, no expedient left, but to endeavour to 
give some specimen of the whole subject, and this I will, therefore, 
now attempt to do, 

I select for that purpose the speech and the examination of Peter 
Wentworth (there were two of them), and the more so, because you 
would not, unless you read the Parliamentary proceedings, sufficiently 
notice these singular transactions. Peter Wentworth was a Puritan ; 
this is another reason why I should draw your attention to them. 
You should learn to understand the character of the Puritan as soon 
as possible ; you must never lose sight of it, while reading this par- 
ticular portion of our history. Wentworth was one of the most in- 
trepid and able assertors of the privileges of the House, and being, as 
I have just said, a Puritan, he was irresistibly hurried forward, not 
only by a regard for the liberties of the subject, but by religious 
zeal. Here, therefore, in Wentworth, we have immediately pre- 
sented to us a forerunner of the Hampdens and Pyms, and in Eliza- 
beth of Charles, the great actors that arc to appear in the ensuing 
scenes ; and there is little or no difference in the constitutional points 
at issue. Observe, then, what passed. 

Elizabeth, after stopping and controlling the debates and jurisdic- 
tion of the House on different occasions, at last commissioned the 
Speaker to declare, in consequence of a bill relating to rites and 



236 LECTURE XIV. 

ceremonies in the Church having been read three times, that it was 
the queen's pleasure, " that, from henceforth, no bills concerning re- 
ligion should be preferred or received into this House, unless the 
same should be first considered and approved by the clergy." 

Wentworth, and indeed other members, had on former occasions 
not been wanting to the duty which they owed their country ; but 
this interference of the queen produced from him, some time after- 
wards, a speech which has not been overlooked by Hume, and is in 
every respect memorable. Far from acquiescing in the ideas which 
Elizabeth had formed of the prerogative of the prince, and of the 
duties and privileges of the Parliament, expressions like the following 
are to be found in his harangue. You will observe the mixture of 
religious and patriotic feelings. " We are assembled to make, or ab- 
rogate, such laws as may be to the chiefest surety, safe-keeping, and 
enrichment of this noble realm of England I do think it ex- 
pedient to open the commodities [advantages] that grow to the prince 
and whole state by free speech used in this place." This he pro- 
ceeded to do on seven different grounds ; and he concluded, — 
" That in this house, which is termed a place of free speech, there is 
nothing so necessary for the preservation of the prince and state as 
free speech ; and without this, it is a scorn and mockery to call it a 
Parhament house, for, in truth, it is none, but a very school of 
flattery and dissimulation, and so a fit place to serve the Devil and 
his angels in, and not to glorify God and benefit the commonwealth." 
And again : — "So that to avoid everlasting death, and condemna- 
tion with the high and mighty God, we ought to proceed in every 
cause according to the matter, and not according to the prince's 

mind The king ought not to be under man, but under God 

and under the law, because the law maketh him a king ; let the king, 
therefore, attribute that to the law which the law attributeth unto him, 
— that is, dominion and power: for he is not a king in whom will, and 
not the law, doth rule, and therefore he ought to be under the law." 
And again : — " We received a message, that we should not deal 
in any matters of religion, but first to receive from the bishops. 
Surely this was a doleful message ; for it was as much as to say, ' Sirs, 
ye shall not deal in God's causes ; no, ye shall in no wise seek to ad- 
vance his glory.' We are incorporated into this place to 

serve God and all England, and not to be timeservers, as humor-feed- 
ers, as cancers that would pierce the bone, or as flatterers that 
would fain beguile all the world, and so worthy to be condemned both 

of God and man God grant that we may sharply and 

boldly reprove God's enemies, our prince's and state ; and so shall 
every one of us discharge our duties in this our high office wherein 
he hath placed us, and show ourselves haters of evil and cleavers to 
that that is good, to the setting forth of God's glory and honor, and 
to the preservation of our noble queen and commonwealth." 



ELIZABETH. 237 

The speech is not short, and he goes on to conclude thus : — 
" Thus I have hoklen you long with my rude speech ; the which 
since it tendeth wholly, with pure conscience, to seek the advance- 
ment of God's glory, our honorable sovereign's safety, and to the 
sure defence of this noble isle of England, and all by maintaining of 
the liberties of this honorable council, the fountain from whence all 
these do spring, my humble and hearty suit unto you all is, to accept 
my good-will, and that this, that I have here spoken out of conscience 
and great zeal unto my prince and state, may not be buried in the pit 
of oblivion, and so no good come thereof." 

The House, it seems, out of a reverent regard to her ^Majesty's 
honor, stopped him before he had fully finished, and " he was se- 
questered the House for his said speech." He was afterwards 
brought from the sergeant's custody to answer for his speech to a 
committee of the House. All that passed is very curious. 

" I do promise you all," said this intrepid patriot, " if God forsake 
me not, that I will never, during life, hold my tongue, if any message 
is sent wherein God is dishonored, the prince perilled, or the liberties 
of the Parliament impeached." And again: — "I beseech your 
Honors, discharge your consciences herein, and utter your knowledge 
simply as I do ; for, in truth, herein her Majesty did abuse her no- 
bihty and subjects, and did oppose herself against them by the way 
of advice." 

" Surely we cannot deny it," repHed the committee ; " you say the 
truth." This speaker of the truth was, however, like many of his pre- 
decessors, sent to prison for " the violent and wicked Avords yesterday 
pronounced by liim in this House toucliing the queen's Majesty." 

This, it seems, was no surprise to him. In his examination before 
the committee, he had observed, — "I will assure your Honors, that 
twenty times and more, Avhen I walked in my grounds revolving this 
speech, to prepare against this day, my own fearful conceit did say 
unto me, that this speech would carry me to the place whither I shall 
now go, and fear would have moved me to have put it out. Then I 
weighed whether in good conscience and the duty of a faithful subject 
I might keep myself out of prison, and not to warn my prince from 
walking in a dangerous course. My conscience said unto me, that I 
could not be a faithful subject, if I did more respect to avoid my own 
danger than my prince's danger ; herewithal I was made bold, and 
went forward as your Honors heard. Yet when I uttered those 
words in the House, that there was none without fault, no, not our 
noble queen, I paused, and beheld all your countenances, and saw 
plainly that those words did amaze you all ; then I was afraid with jon 
for company, and fear bade me to put out those words that followed, 
for your countenances did assure me that not one of you would stay 
me of my journey ; yet I spake it, and I praise God for it." 

You will now observe the conduct of Elizabeth. In a month after- 



238 LECTURE XIV. 

wards, the queen was pleased to remit her displeasure, and to refer 
the enlargement of the party to the House ; when the Chancellor of 
the Exchequer rose to expatiate, first, on her Majesty's good and cle- 
ment nature ; secondly, on her respect to the Commons ; and, thirdly, 
their duty towards her. While he laid down, that the House were " not, 
under the pretence of liberty, to forget their bounden duty to so gracious 
a queen," he failed not to add, that " true it is, that nothing can be 
well concluded in a council where there is not allowed, in debating 
of causes brought in, dehberation, liberty, and freedom of speech " ; 
and the whole tone of his harangue, which appears, even now, mod- 
erate and reasonable, being pronounced, as it was, by a minister of 
the crown, in the reign of Ehzabeth, and in a set speech made for 
the occasion, must be considered, though the minister was more of a 
patriot than the rest, as indicating that the House really felt that 
Wentworth had been guilty rather in form than in substance, and 
had not offended against the spirit of the constitution, though the 
vigor and ability of Elizabeth's administration, and her jealousy of 
her prei-ogative, made it a task of difficulty, and even of personal 
danger, openly to resist her pohtical maxims or disregard her men- 
aces. 

The few particulars that I have thus mentioned will, I hope, serve 
my purpose, — that of giving you some general notion, not only of 
this remarkable transaction, but of the whole subject that is so long 
to occupy your attention. 

Eleven years afterwards, the same patriot and Puritan, on a simi- 
lar occasion, handed forward to the Speaker a few articles by way of 
queries, among which we find one couched in the following words : — 
" Whether there be any council which can make, add to, or diminish 
from, the laws of the realm, but only this council of Parliament? " — 
a query which Wentworth conceived could be answered only in the 
negative (that there was no council but Parliament) ; and which, if 
so answered, would at once put an end to all the maxims and pre- 
tences of arbitrary power. It was for another century so to answer 
this important query, and not before a dreadful appeal had been 
made by the Commons and the crown to the uncertain decision of 
arms. 

Not a session took place in the reign of Elizabeth which does not 
present some speech, or motion, or debate, characteristic of the times, 
and of the undefined nature of the constitution ; and we have re- 
peated specimens of the same sort of constitutional questions, the 
same sort of state difficulties, that took place in the subsequent reigns 
of James and Charles. But there is this important difference invari- 
ably to be observed : Elizabeth could always give way in time to 
render her concessions a favor. Unlike other arbitrary princes, and 
unlike chiefly in this particular, she did not tliink it a mark of politi- 
cal wisdom always to persevere when her authority was resisted. 



ELIZABETH. 239 

She did not suppose that her subjects, if she yielded to their petitions 
or complaints, would necessarily conclude that she did so from fear ; 
she did not conclude, that, if she became more reasonable, they must 
necessarily become less so. With as high notions of her prerogative 
as any sovereign that can be mentioned, in her own nature most 
haughty and most imperious, she had still the good sense not only 
to perceive, but to act as if she perceived, that it was her interest to 
be beloved as well as respected ; and her reign, if examined, shows a 
constant assertion and production of the powers of the prerogative, 
but still the most prudent management of it, and the most careful at- 
tention to public opinion. This last is a great merit in all sovereigns 
and their ministers, and, indeed, somewhat necessary to the virtue 
of all men, in private life as well as public. 

Now the question is, successful and able as she was, what was it 
that imposed any restraint upon her disposition ? Why did she so 
respect and abstain from the privileges which she might or might 
not think belonged to the Commons ? Why did she temper the exer- 
cise of what she judged her own prerogative, make occasional conces- 
sions, and, after all, not be that arbitrary sovereign which, according 
to Hume, the constitution rendered her ? There seems no answer 
but one : that such was the spirit of the constitution (whatever might 
be its letter), such was the effect it produced on the minds of her 
people, and of her houses of legislature, that, on the whole, it was 
not prudent, it would not have been thought sufficiently legal, for her 
to be often or systematically that absolute sovereign which the his- 
torian supposes her to have been. The conclusion, therefore, is, that 
the constitution was not, in fact, what he imagines. There is certainly 
some confusion in Hume ; he does not distinguish between the con- 
stitution as originally understood before Henry the Seventh, and the 
constitution as it afterwards obtained in practice under the Tudors. 
Add to this, that it is in vain to look entirely at statutes and at 
courts, whether equitable or oppressive. The general spirit of the 
whole, the notions of it that are inherited and transmitted, the effect 
produced on the opinions and temperament of the public and of the 
rulers themselves, — these are the great objects to be considered, 
Avhen we speak of a constitution. 

It is but too obnous to remark the supenorlty of Elizabeth over 
her successors, particularly the unhappy Charles, in one most im- 
portant reqviisite, — the art of discovering the state of the public 
mind, the art of appreciating well the nature of the times in which 
she lived. The fact seems to be, that the great merit, the sole 
merit, of this renowned queen was this : with great faults, bad 
passions, and most female weaknesses, she had still the spirit and the 
sense so to control her own nature, that, with the exception of her 
appointment of Leicester to charges the most critical, she never, like 
other sovereigns of similar faults, neglected the interests of her king- 



240 LECTURE XIV. 

dom, or by the indulgence of her own failings brought calamities on 
her subjects. This is an honorable distinction. If princes and 
ministers, in their real disposition as reprehensible and odious as 
Queen Elizabeth, would in practice become rulers as prudent and 
patriotic, the affairs of mankind would present a very different and 
far more pleasing appearance. 

There is a Dialogue by Dr. Kurd on the times and personal 
qualities of Elizabeth, which is not long, and is well worth reading, 
where her character is very sevei-ely criticized, and feebly defended. 
Camden's Life of Queen Elizabeth may be consulted for minute par- 
ticulars respecting the distinguished families and statesmen of those 
days, and for facts. The history is drawn up in the form of annals, 
— the style clear and unaffected ; but there are no philosopliic 
views, — no comments on the civil and religious hberties of the coun- 
try, — little said of the Puritans or of the penal statutes against the 
Papists, — the conduct of Queen Elizabeth not properly criticized, — 
and the whole what one might expect from an honest, diligent man, 
whose patron was Cecil, and who wrote during the reign of James 
the First, at a time when history had not assumed her modern char- 
acter of philosophy teaching by examples. This Camden is the cele- 
brated antiquarian ; and from the Biographia Britannica of Kippis it 
appears that great pains were taken with this work, and that it was 
much admired in its day. Camden had access to all the state papers 
of Lord Burleigh and of the public offices. — The publications of 
Birch maybe consulted, — "Birch the indefatigable," as he was 
called by Gray. 

The Journals of the Parliaments (folio edition, 1682), by Sir 
Simonds D'Ewes, is a work of authority connected with the reign of 
Queen Elizabeth. The preface is worth reading ; it is animating, it 
is edifying, to see the piety and industry of these venerable men of 
former times. " Yet I have already," says he, " entered upon other 
and greater labors, conceiving myself not to be born for myself 

alone These I have proposed to myself to labor in, 

like him that shoots at the sun, not in hopes to reach it, but to shoot 

as high as possibly his strength, art, or skill will permit Yet, 

if I can but finish a little in each kind, it may hereafter stir up some 

able judgments to add an end to the whole I shall always pray, 

as I do sincerely desire, that by all my endeavours God may be glori- 
fied, the truth, divine or human, vindicated, and the public benefited. 

' Sic milii coutingat vivere, sicqtxe mori.' " 

Most of what is to be found in Sir Simonds may be seen in the 
Parliamentary History, as pubhshed by Cobbett, with valuable addi- 
tions from Strype. 

From these debates some idea may be formed of the manners of 
the times, and of the minds of the great men that appeared in them ; 
some idea, too, of the constitution. 



JAMES THE FIRST. 241 

Sergeant Hejle said, — " I marvel much that the House -will stand 
upon granting of a subsidy, or the time of payment, when all we 
have is her Majesty's." " At which all the House hemmed, and 
laughed and talked." — Page 633. 

" He that will go about to debate her Majesty's prerogative royal," 
said Dr. Bennet, " had need walk warily." — Page 645. See, too, 
Secretary Cecil's speech, page 649. But the queen, after all, gave 
up the monopolies complained of. 

Sir Edward Coke speaks very strongly in favor of the antiquity 
of the Commons, page 515. " At the first we were all one house, 
and sat together, by a precedent which I have of a Parliament holden 

before the Conquest, by Edward, the son of Etheldred ; 

but the commons, sitting in presence of the king, and amongst the 

nobles, disliked it, and the house was divided, and 

came to sit asvmder." The facts do not seem to agree with this 
representation, our present House of Commons not being the same as 
the "communitas" of the ancient Parliament. And again, to the 
same effect Sir Edward Coke speaks in another place. 

The chief points of interest in these debates are the speeches 
and queries of Peter Wentworth for freedom of speech, &c., dis- 
cussions on the privileges of the Commons in case of arrests, &c., 
and on monopolies, when the queen's prerogative came into ques- 
tion. 

In Sir Simonds's reports the Puritans and the penal laws against 
Papists, &c., do not make the appearance that might be expected. 
The notions then entertained on subjects of pohtical economy ap- 
pear particularly in the speeches of Sir Francis Bacon ; and from 
the mistakes of such a man, and such men as were then around him, 
may be estimated the merits of Adam Smith, and the progress of 
improvement in the course of a century and a half. 

The forms of Parliamentary proceedings and ceremonies may be 
studied in this work of Sir Simonds D'Ewes. 

The same interest which belongs to the reign of Elizabeth belongs 
still more to the Parliamentary proceedings in the reign of James 
the First. The Commons and the sovereign seem of like disposition 
with their predecessors ; but the former far more advanced in wis- 
dom, and the latter in folly. The great contest between prerogative 
and freedom may be seen still ripening into fatal maturity ; and the 
parties and maxims which so distinguished the reign of Charles the 
First are clearly visible. 

The proceedings in Parliament, and the speeches of the king, are 
most of them marked by expressions and reasonings, the perusal of 
Avhich can alone convey an adequate picture of the times, and of the 
revolution which was approaching. jNIany of them are very remark- 
able ; one document more particularly, entitled, " An Apology of 
the House of Commons, made to the King, touching their Privileges." 
31 u 



242 LECTURE XIV. 

It was presented to the House by one of their committees. It is not 
easy to see how the cause of the people of England could be stated 
more reasonably or more ably. It is supposed to have been written 
by the great Bacon, and is so excellent as to seem quite superior to 
the age to which it belongs, and almost to induce a doubt of its au- 
thentfcity. Its authenticity, however, seems on the whole not to be 
controverted. You will see it in Cobbett, and alluded to in Hume's 
notes. 

The king appears to have formed one idea of the constitution, and 
the Commons another. Before the end of his reign he was brought 
to express himself in a manner somewhat more agreeable to the gen- 
eral spirit of the laws and customs of the realm, yet his reign was 
marked by a continual state of warfare, and an open rupture was at 
last the result. 

Understanding that a protestation had been drawn up by the 
House on the subject of their privileges, he sent for their journal- 
book, and tore it out with his own hand. This protestation had 
affirmed, that the liberties, franchises, privileges, and jurisdiction of 
Parliament are the ancient and undoubted birthright and inheritance 
of the subjects of England ; had asserted the competence of Parlia- 
ment to consider such affairs as the king thought exclusively the ob- 
jects of what, in the pride of his folly, he called his state-craft ; had 
laid down the freedom of speech, the immunity from arrest, and the 
illegality of the king's giving credence (as it was called) with re- 
spect to the conduct of the members. 

Such were the reasonable positions which the king resisted, and 
with such violence. The leading members of the Commons were at 
that time such men as Sir Edward Coke and Mr. Selden. James 
seems not to have been a sovereign determined in his character like 
Ehzabeth, or brutal in his disposition like Henry the Eighth, but he 
was in theory always, and in practice sometimes, a despot ; and the 
tendency of all his exertions was to render his successors so. The 
people of England have, therefore, an eternal obligation to the great 
and virtuous men who opposed his pretensions. 

There is, however, one circumstance which took place in his reign, 
not noticed by Millar, which, as far as it can now be understood, 
seems favorable to the good intentions of this monarch, but at the 
same time strongly indicates how little the actors in a scene can ap- 
preciate their own situation. I will state shortly the circumstances, 
which do not, I think, appear to have been sufficiently noticed by our 
historians. 

On the decline of the feudal system, the king was left to depend 
for the support of his own state, and even for the expenses of foreign 
war, first, on the claims of his feudal rights, and on the exercise of 
his prerogative, and, secondly, on the supphes of Parliament. These 
feudal claims and exercises of the prerogative were daily becoming, 



JAMES THE FIRST. 243 

from the changes that had taken place in the world, less valuable to 
the crown, and yet more injurious and offensive to the subject. But 
if these were to be entirely withdrawn, the sovereign was then to be 
left totally dependent on the favor of the Commons. It was neither 
in itself just, nor in any respect agreeable to the best interests of 
the people, that the sovereign should be thus deprived of all proper 
funds for the maintenance of his personal dignity and constitutional 
importance. The only expedient for avoiding all the evils that might 
ensue was, that the king should give up the feudal rights and pre- 
rogatives which his predecessors had exercised, and the Commons, in 
return, secure him an adequate revenue, a revenue which might be 
collected from the subjects with less injury to their civil freedom and 
growing prosperity. 

In a few years after the king's accession, a scheme of this sort 
was actually in agitation. The Lords mediated, as usual, between 
the king and Commons. Even the terms of the bargain, or what 
Avas then very properly called the Great Contract, wei'e all adjust- 
ed. The Parliament was prorogued in the summer to October ; and 
all that remained was, that they should state the manner in which 
the sum agreed upon (two hundred thousand pounds per annum) 
was to be secured. But though the conferences and committees 
were resumed, no effectual progress was made, and the Parliament 
was dissolved in December, — nothing done. This great chance for 
avoiding all the evils that were impending was thus lost for ever. 

We in vain inquire, by whose fault, by what unhappy train of cir- 
cumstances, this golden opportunity was lost. The Journals of the 
Commons are here wanting ; the Journals of the Lords give little or 
no information ; nor do the contemporary historians assist us. The 
king in his proclamation, after alluding to the affair, says only, that, 
" for many good considerations known to himself, he hath now deter- 
mined to dissolve this Parliament." When he called a new one, four 
years afterwards, he only observes in his speech, that he " will deal 
no more with them like a merchant, by way of exchange," — that 
he " will expect loving contribution for loving retribution," — that 
" to come to account with them how and what was too base for his 
quality." In another speech he alludes to some who had done ill 
offices between him and his Commons. The probability seems, that 
the higgling manner of the Commons had naturally disgusted the 
king, and that two hundred thousand pounds per annum was a sum 
larger, at that time, than they on their part durst commit to the ex- 
clusive disposal of the crown ; and this conjecture is confirmed by a 
few words whicli I observe in a passage of one of Sir John Eliot's 
speeches, made some time after. 

In a few months, this new Parliament was likewise dissolved, and 
in great ill-humor ; yet nothing occurs in the speeches of the mem- 
bers, or elsewhere, with the casual exception just mentioned in Sir 



244 LECTURE XIV. 

John Eliot's hint, that thro^YS any light on this important transaction. 
Neither the leaders of the Commons, therefore, with all their real 
ability, nor the king, with all his " state-craft," nor the historians at 
the time, much less the people, appear to have seen the crisis in 
which the realm was already placed, or that the best, perhaps only, 
system had been struck upon, and yet abandoned, for saving alike 
the people and the monarch from the dangers to which they were ex- 
posed. These dangers were now inevitable. The Commons had 
publicly stated the maxims of their conduct, — the principles, as they 
conceived, of the constitution. The king had indignantly torn them 
from their journals, as inconsistent with his rights and the honor of 
his crown. The great question of prerogative on the one side, and 
of privilege on the other, was therefore at issue ; and it would have 
required far other abilities and virtues than those which his successor 
Charles possessed, to have been a guardian minister of good to his 
unhappy country, in a situation so little understood, and, however 
understood, so encompassed with difficulties. 

Making every allowance for the imperfection of human judgment, 
making every allowance for the impossibility which seems always to 
exist either for king or people properly to comprehend their situation, 
when these dreadful revolutions are approaching, still the conduct of 
Charles appears totally infatuated. Admit that he entertained the 
same notions of the royal prerogative which liis father had done, that 
he thought himself bound in honor to defend it, was it not clear that 
he must then adopt a system of economy, and avoid expense at home 
and wars abroad ? If Ms Parliaments differed with him about his 
rights, could he on any other system do without them ? Admit, 
again, that he lived in a religious age, when Papist and Protestant, 
when Roman Catholic, Lutheran, and Calvinist, gave each of them 
the most unreasonable importance, as they are always disposed to do, 
to their own particular doctrines and ceremonies, had not the nature 
of the religious principle sufficiently displayed itself ? Had not the 
transactions in Germany, from the beginning of the Reformation, 
been a subject of the most recent history ? Had not the efforts Avhich 
the Calvinists made in France, had not the wars in the Low Coun- 
tries, had not the success of the Hollanders, been exhibited im- 
mediately before his eyes ? Could he draw no lesson for his own 
conduct from instances like these ? Could all that he had even then 
witnessed in what is now called the Thirty Years' War in Germany 
produce no effect upon his understanding ; and as if the ability and 
spirit of his English Parliaments were not sufficient for his embarrass- 
ment, was he still further to increase his difficulties, was he to go on 
and summon to his destruction all the furies of rage and fanaticism 
from Scotland ? The wisest monarch, in the situation of Charles, 
might, no doubt, have failed ; but it seems scarcely possible for his 
worst enemy to have advised more obvious and fatal mistakes than 



uril 



CHARLES THE FIRST. 245 

those which, with all our compassion for his fate, we must allow tliat 
he committed. 

With this period of our history we are certainly called upon to 
take more than ordinary pains. It has been highly labored by 
Hume ; it has been considered, in his o^vn manly and decisive man- 
ner, by Millar ; it has been detailed by the virtuous Clarendon ; a 
sort of journal of it has been made by Whitelocke ; what a plain and 
gallant soldier thought may be seen in Ludlow ; a more domestic 
view of it, in the Life of Colonel Hutchinson ; and the Parliamentary 
proceedings and public documents may be examined in Cobbett, and 
particularly in Rushworth. INIuch more than this may be found, if 
sought for ; but less than this can scarcely be sufficient for any one 
who would understand the history of the constitution of England. 

There is a History of the Long Parhament by May ; a History of 
the Independents by the Presbyterian Walker ; papers collected by 
Nalson, who professes to correct Rushworth ; and different memoirs, 
such as the Memoirs of Holies and Sir Philip Warwick. Since I 
drew up these lectures, the whole subject has been considered by 
Mr. Brodie, a searcher into original records, and a corrector of 
Hume. Mr. Godwin has published a work which must be considered 
as the defence of the Repubhcan party. Miss Aikin has lately fur- 
nished us important Memoirs, which become in the course of the de- 
tail by far the best explanation and excuse for the conduct of the 
popular leaders, and more particularly the Long Parhament, that have 
as yet appeared. And on all and on every occasion, and on all the 
critical points of this memorable contest, Hallam will be found totally 
invaluable. 

But we must, in the first place, attend to the philosophical reflec- 
tions and statements of Hume and INIillar. The situation of the 
different orders of the state, and of the various religious sects, the 
views and interests of each, and those general pxinciples of gov- 
ernment which can apply to this interesting period, — all these are 
very ably stated by these writers ; and their account, when compared 
with the documents in Rushworth, with the Parliamentary speeches, 
and with the sincere, though apologetical, narrative of Clarendon, 
may enable every reader to draw his own conclusions. I must by 
no means forget the important work of Rapin, always unaffected and 
laborious, a work which may readily and ought always to be com- 
pared with Hume. 

But having referred my hearer to these histories and documents, I 
must leave him to the perusal of them in the whole or in part. They 
are too numerous, various, and interesting even to be properly de- 
scribed ; they can only be mentioned. In like manner, the reflec- 
tions of Hume and ^Millar are all of them far too valuable to be pre- 
sented to you in any garbled manner here, and, indeed, are far too 
well expressed to be produced in any words but their own. AU that 

u* 



246 LECTURE XIV. 

I can attempt, therefore, in the ensumg lectures is this, — to offer a 
few observations, such as I conceive may possibly be of use to those 
who undertake the perusal of all or any of the books I have recom- 
mended, such as may, perhaps, enable them to exercise their own 
diligence and their o^vn powers of reflection Avitli the better effect. 

In the first place, then, I would suggest that there are two leading 
considerations in tliis subject which should always be kept in view. 
The first is this : — What was the effect of these transactions on the 
constitution ultimately, — on the ivliole f Secondly, What Avere the 
comparative merits and demerits of the contending parties ? 

The first consideration must, of course, be suspended till we can 
turn and look back from a very distant point of view, such as the 
Revolution of 1688, when these disputes were brought to a species of 
close. It is the second consideration, the merits and demerits of the 
contending parties, which is more within the reach of our attention 
at present. And even in this last question the first wiU be found 
continually implicated. 

With respect to this last inquiry, the comparative merits and de- 
merits of the parties, what I would recommend is, that the whole of 
the reign of Charles should be separated into different intervals, and 
an estimate and comparison made of the conduct of the parties during 
each of these inteiTals. This estimate may be very different during 
different intervals ; and it is from a consideration of the whole that a 
verdict must at last be pronounced. 

I shall in this and the ensuing lectures endeavour to give you a 
more distinct idea of what I have just proposed, and I shall attempt 
to do in a summary manner what, as I conceive, you may with some 
advantage execute hereafter more regularly for yourselves, as you 
read the history and the proper documents connected with it. 

The first period which I select as an interval is from the accession 
of Charles to the dissolution of his tliird Parliament, in 1629, an in- 
terval of four years. 

But before this interval, or any part of the question, be examined, 
one observation must be made ; it is this : that, in appreciating the 
comparative merits of the two contending parties, it is most important 
to consider what was their conduct at the commencement of their 
differences, and before the rupture actually took place, — that is, 
which was at first the offending party. Afterwards it is too late for 
either of them to be wise. Offences and injuries generate each other, 
from the very nature of human infirmity ; the decision is soon com- 
mitted to violence and force ; and those are the most guilty who have 
been the original means of reducing themselves or their opponents to 
such dreadful extremities. 

This being premised, we are to examine, in the next place, this 
short, but, for the reason I have just mentioned, this most critical 
period, this first interval of four years. 



CHARLES THE FIRST. 247 

And to me it appears that it would be difficult to say how the kin" 
could have conducted himself in a manner less deserving of our ap- 
probation. Read tlie history, and then consider, were not his notions 
inconsistent, not only with the civil Uberty which belongs to a free 
monarchy, but with the measure of civil freedom which at that time 
belonged to the English monarchy ? Again, had his ])eople any 
other hold upon him but their House of Commons ? Had the Com- 
mons any, but his necessities ? Did they, therefore, in the last 
place, push their power of extorting concessions in return for their 
supplies to any extent not required by the pubUc good, or rather, to 
any extent not required by the constitution, even as then under- 
stood ? 

Take, for a specimen of the whole subject, the proceedings on the 
famous Petition of llight. 

AVhen we, in the first place, read the history, and observe all the 
shifts and efforts of the king to evade it, and all the anxiety and 
labor of the Commons to prepare it, and when we afterwards come 
to read the petition itself, the first sensation is surely that of extreme 
surprise ; for it actually appears to contain no declaration and no 
provision that we should not have hoped that Charles, or any other 
English monarch from the time of Magna Charta, would have assent- 
ed to with cheerfulness. 

One observation, however, is to be made : the Petition of llight 
did, in fact, endeavour to settle, or rather, to confirm, for ever, one 
particular point, which may not, at the first reading of the petition, 
sufficiently occur to you ; this point was the personal liberty of the 
subject. 

This petition, and this particular question of the personal liberty 
of the subject, have been considered at length and with due dili- 
gence by Hume, and his observations must be well examined and 
weighed. The personal liberty of the subject, you will observe, is 
the great point. 

There is a pohtical difficulty, no doubt, in the question. Thus, it 
is fit that every government should have a power of imprisonment, 
even without sJiowing cause ; because very extraordinary occasions 
may arise ; a rebellion, for instance, may be reasonably apprehended. 
But this Petition of Right gives no such occasional power, allows of 
no exceptions in any supposed case, but lays down the personal free- 
dom of the subject in all situations but those in which the subject 
has already become obnoxious to the existing laws. This, therefore, 
does not seem a proper adjustment of the great question of the per- 
sonal liberty of the subject. 

It must, however, be observed, that it was on account of no theo- 
retical objection of this kind that Charles was resolved, if possible, 
not to assent to the Petition of Right. The real reasons of his op- 
position were these : because he had no means of raising money by 



248 LECTURE XIV. 

the exertions of his prerogative, unless he could throw men into 
prison "without showing cause, if they resisted his requisitions ; and 
because he had no expedient for controlling the freedom of speech in 
the houses of Parliament, vmless it was, on the whole, understood 
that the members were within reach of what he and the Lords called 
his sovereign power. There can surely, therefore, be no doubt, that, 
if the Commons had not made provision against this claim of the 
crown, it would soon have been totally unsafe and impossible for any 
member in Parliament, or any subject out of it, to offer any legal re- 
sistance to the arbitrary measures of the king ; and the contest must 
at length have terminated entirely against the constitution. Charles 
had exercised a power of imprisonment on pretences and for pur- 
poses totally incompatible with all liberty ; what was left for the 
Commons but to insist upon it, as a fixed principle, that no man should 
be imprisoned without cause shown ? 

But what are we to say, when we find that this had always been 
the language of the constitution, from Magna Charta down to that 
moment ? " The truth is," says Mr. Hume, " the Great Charter 
and the old statutes were sufficiently clear in favor of personal lib- 
erty. But as all kings of England had ever, in cases of necessity 
or expediency, been accustomed at intervals to elude them, and as 
Charles, in a complication of instances, had lately violated them, the 
Commons judged it requisite to enact a new law, which might not be 
eluded or violated by any interpretation, construction, or contrary 
precedent. Nor was it sufficient, they thought, that the king prom- 
ised to return into the way of his predecessors. His predecessors in 
all times had enjoyed too much discretionary power, and, by his re- 
cent abuse of it, the whole world had reason to see the necessity of 
entirely retrenching it." These are the words of Mr. Hume. 

But upon this statement of Mr. Hume, does not the conduct of the 
Commons appear perfectly constitutional and perfectly reasonable ? 
With what propriety is Mr. Hume, at the close of this subject, to use 
the following expressions ? — "It may be affirmed, "without any ex- 
aggeration, that the king's assent to the Petition of Right produced 
such a change in the government as was almost equivalent to a revo- 
lution." How could this enactment of the Petition of Right, this 
confirmation of Magna Charta and the old statutes, which were al- 
ready so clear in favor of personal liberty, — how can this new asser- 
tion of what had always been asserted, this new assertion in times of 
such extreme peril to the constitution, — how can this be represented 
as equivalent to a revolution ? 

The great political difficulty of the personal liberty of the subject, 
which was thus decided by the Commons entireli/ in favor of the sub- 
ject, according to the ancient laws and constitution of the realm, was 
not settled ^\^th philosophical accuracy by the Petition of Right. To 
have expected tliis in such times was to expect too much. After- 



■ CHARLES THE FIRST. 249 

wards it was more skilfully provided for, as is well known, by making 
effective the writ of Habeas Corpus, in the first place, and by the 
occasional suspension of the writ, in the second. In consequence of 
this writ, made at last available, no man can now be kept in prison 
without cause shown ; and when the writ is to be suspended, and men 
are to be kept in prison without cause shown, the suspension is asked 
for by the executive power, and is assented to by the legislative 
power for a time specified, and on reasons first produced and deemed 
sufficient. The general freedom of the subject is thus secured, and 
the very necessary interference of government in an arbitrary man- 
ner, occasionally, to protect the community from the concealed prac- 
tices of foreign or domestic traitors, is thus admitted. This is, I 
conceive, a very happy adjustment of one of the greatest difficulties 
that belong to the science of government. 

Observe, however, it is quite clear, that, from the moment the writ 
of Habeas Corpus is suspended, and the executive power can throw 
men into prison without showing cause, the government is at once 
changed from a free to an arbitrary government ; and that the liber- 
ties of the country are, from that instant, left to depend on the spirit 
of freedom, and on the habits of right thinking, that have already 
been generated by that free constitution, not only in the houses of 
Parliament, the judges of the land, and the people, but even in the 
executive power itself. The question, therefore, that remains is, 
whether this justly celebrated writ of Habeas Corpus would now 
exist in our constitution, if it had not been for the exertions of the 
Commons in the reign of Charles the First, and more particularly on 
this occasion of the Petition of Right, — and whether, if it had not 
been for these exertions, an order from a secretary of state, and the 
Tower, might not have been as common in England, as lettres de 
cachet and the Bastile were once in France. 

I will now select another general specimen of these times, and of 
the struggle before us, — the question of tonnage and poundage. 

To me it appears, I confess, that the only point, on which the ex- 
act propriety of the conduct of the Commons, during the Avhole of 
this period of the first three Parliaments, may be at all questioned, 
lies here ; — I do not mean their original resistance to the crown, in 
the question of tonnage and poundage, but their final management 
and behaviour at the close of this transaction. 

The king had in this instance, as in all the rest, acted most unskil- 
fully and unjustifiably ; still, he had at last given up the right, and 
that publicly. But this, it seems, did not content the Commons ; 
they proceeded immediately to carry the right, thus admitted, into 
practical and visible effect. They insisted upon granting the duties 
for a year only, with a view to alter the customary mode of granting 
them, and, by thus exemplifying their right, to settle the (pacstiou 
for ever. 

32 



250 LECTURE XIV. 

Now this appears to me to have been wrong ; it was harsh, of- 
fensive, and had the air of a triumph over a fallen adversary. It 
would have been better to have made allowance for the king's situa- 
tion and feelings ; to have been satisfied, for the present, with the 
king's surrender of the point in theory ; to have sacrificed something 
of constitutional precision, for the sake of an object so important as a 
sincere accommodation with the executive branch of the legislature ; 
in short, to have indulged the sovereign, even in his unreasonableness 
and mistakes, since the contest had evidently turned in their favor, 
and they could do it without hazard. In all political struggles, there 
is no duty so seldom practised, and so necessary to society, as a for- 
bearance and magnanimity of this nature. The Commons thought 
otherwise, and I do not deny that their situation was very critical, 
and that much may be urged in opposition to what I have thus sug- 
gested. 

The second and next interval which I would select is from the end 
of the first four years of Charles's reign, from 1629, to 1640, — a 
most remarkable interval of eleven years, and which is extremely 
important. 

Here a new scene opens. We have no longer, as hitherto, the 
king calling Parliaments, and then demanding the grant of supplies, 
as the condition of his favor ; and the Commons, in their turn, requir- 
ing the admission of constitutional claims, as the condition of their 
subsidies. We have no longer prorogations, dissolutions, imprison- 
ment of the members, and, during the intermission of Parliament, 
loans and benevolences. But we have now a resolution to call Par- 
liaments no more ; we have what were before occasional expedients 
converted into a system of regular government ; we have every effort 
exerted to make the prerogative of the crown supply the place of Par- 
liaments ; and this plan of government persevered in for eleven years 
together. 

Now it is very evident, that, if this experiment had succeeded, — 
if Charles the First could have ruled without Parliaments, as he was 
to be followed by such princes as his sons really were, and must 
necessarily have been made, — no diiference could have long re- 
mained between the English monarchy and the French ; and Charles 
the First, though amiable in private life, a man of virtue and of re- 
ligion, would, in fact, have been the destroyer of the liberties of his 
country, and, in this important respect, precisely on a level with the 
perfidious and detestable tyrant of France, Louis the Eleventh. 

This part of the history ought to be well observed. The illegal 
expedients, or, as Mr. Hume calls them, the irregular levies of 
money, that were resorted to, and the cruel sentences, or, as Mr. 
Hume denominates them, the severities, of the Star-Chamber and 
High Commission, may be gathered even from one of Mr. Hume's 
own chapters, the fifty-second, which you must particularly observe. 



CHARLES THE FIRST. 251 

The Puritans everywhere fled, preferring to the fair lands of Eng- 
land the savage and untamed wilds of America, — wilds where their 
persons were yet free, and their minds their own. Haslerig, Pym, 
and Cromwell, even Hampden, had embarked, but were prevented 
from proceeding by an order of government. 

This last anecdote has been shown to be a mistake of the historians 
by Miss Aikin, Avho was the first to suspect and examine into the 
truth of this statement, with her usual discernment and diligence. 
Of course, the conclusions I had drawn from a circumstance so strik- 
ing as the flight of such leaders are now omitted. 

But I shall conclude this lecture by endeavouring to present to 
you the danger to which the constitution of this country was in reality 
exposed from another point of view. It may be collected, I con- 
ceive, even from the manner in which so intelligent a philosopher as 
Hume and so sincere a patriot as Lord Clarendon have thought 
proper to express themselves on this occasion. The passages I mean 
to quote are a little longer than I could wish ; but I conceive, that, 
when fairly stated, they exemplify so completely the peculiar perils 
of our free government at this particular period of our liistory, that I 
do not venture to abridge them much, and certainly not to make any 
alterations in the expressions or sense. 

Mr. Hume, after detailing in the fifty-second chapter a series of 
incidents which show that the person and property of every man of 
spirit in the country were at the mercy of the court, begins the next 
chapter with the following words : — " The grievances under which 
the English labored, when considered in themselves, without regard 
to the constitution, scarcely deserve the name ; nor were they either 
burdensome on the people's properties, or anywise shocking to the 
natural humanity of mankind. Even the imposition of ship-money, 
mdependent of the consequences, was rather an advantage* to the 
public, by the judicious use which the king made of the money levied 
by that expedient." Again : — " All ecclesiastical aifairs were 
settled by law and miinterrupted precedent ; and the Church was 
become a considerable barrier to the power, both legal and illegal, 
of the crown. Peace, too, industry, commerce, opulence, — nay, 
even justice and lenity of administration, notwithstanding some very 
few exceptions, — all these were enjoyed by the people, and every 
other blessing of government, except liberty, or rather the present 
exercise of liberty and its proper security." 

Observe now Lord Clarendon ; observe the facts that he first lays 
down, and then the remarks Avhich he thinks it necessary to subjoin. 
His facts are the-'e : — " Supplemental acts of state were made to sup- 

* This is the rcadinor of the earlier editions. But his subsequent reflections seem to 
have impressed Mr. llume wth a deeper sense of tlie merits of tliis imposition, and he 
aceordingly, in the final revision of his work, substituted the expression, "a great and 
evident advantage." — N. 



252 LECTURE XIV. 

ply defect of laws ; obsolete laws were revived and rigorously 

executed ; the law of knighthood [was revived] , which 

was very grievous ; and no less unjust projects of all kinds, many ri- 
diculous, many scandalous, all very grievous, were set on foot ; 

the old laws of the forest were revived ; lastly, for a spring and 

magazine that should have no bottom, and for an everlasting supply 
of all occasions, a writ was framed in a form of law," &c., &c., — 
the writ of ship-money. He tells us, that, " for the better support 
of these extraordinary ways, and to protect the agents and instru- 
ments who must be employed in them, and to discountenance and 
suppress all bold inquiries and opposers, the Council-Table and Star- 
Chamber enlarge their jurisdictions to a vast extent, ' holding,' as 
Thucydides said of the Athenians, ' for honorable that which pleased, 
and for just that which profited ' ; and, being the same persons in 
several rooms, grew both courts of law to determine right, and courts 
of revenue to bring money into the treasury : the Council-Table, by 
proclamations, enjoining to the people what was not enjoined by the 
law, and prohibiting that which was not prohibited ; and the Star- 
Chamber censuring the breach and disobedience to those proclama- 
tions, by very great fines and imprisonment ; so that any disrespect 
to any acts of state, or to the persons of statesmen, was in no time 
more penal ; and those foundations of right, by which men valued 
their security, to the apprehension and understanding of wise men, 
never more in danger to be destroyed." 

And yet at the close of his description of this most alarming state 
of England, what are his observations ? They are these : — " Now 
after all this, I must be so just as to say, that, during the whole time 
that these pressures were exercised, and those new and extraordinary 
ways were run, this kingdom enjoyed the greatest calm, and the 
fullest measure of felicity, that any people, in any age, for so long 
time together," that is, for the above-mentioned eleven or twelve 
years, " have been blessed with, to the wonder and envy of all the 
other parts of Christendom." Soon after he adds, having first given 
a more distinct enumeration of the blessings which England enjoyed, 
these words : — " Lastly, for a complement of all these blessings, 
they were enjoyed by and under the protection of a king of the most 
harmless disposition, the most exemplary piety, the greatest sobriety, 
chastity, and mercy, that any prince hath been endowed with." 
Such are the words of Lord Clarendon. 

Now what I have to press upon your reflections is this : — If men 
like these, — a calm, deliberating philosopher like Hume (though 
favorable to monarchy, yet certainly not meaning to be unfavorable 
to the interests of mankind), — if Hume, at the distance of more 
than a century, in the security of his closet, and Clarendon, a lover 
of the constitution, of his country, a patriotic statesman, while de- 
livering, as he rightly conceived, a work to posterity, — if such men 



CHARLES THE FIRST. 253 

coultl think that these were observations on the subject too reasonable 
to be withheld from the minds of their readers, how difficult must 
it have been for men at the time to escape from the soothing, the 
fatal, influence of such considerations, — this supposed prosperity of 
their country, this peace, this order, these domestic virtues and piety 
of their king, their safety under his kind protection ! how difficult to 
be generous enough to think of those Englishmen who were to follow 
them, rather than of themselves ! how difficult to encounter the ter- 
rors of fines and imprisonments, for the sake of any thing so vague, 
so abstract, so disputed (such might have been their language), as 
the constitution of their country ! how difficult to resist all those very 
prudent suggestions with which sensible men, like Hume and Claren- 
don, not to say the minions of baseness and servihty, could have so 
readily suppUed them ! how difficult, when all that was required of 
them was a httle silence, and the occasional payment of a tax of a 
few shiUings ! 

Yet, if our ancestors had not escaped from the soothing, the fatal, 
influence of such considerations, — if they had not thought that 
there was something still more to be required for their country than 
all this peace, and industry, and commerce, this calm of felicity, this 
protection and repose, under the most virtuous and merciful of kings, 
— if they had not resisted with contempt and scorn all the very pru- 
dent suggestions with which their minds might have been so easily 
accommodated, — if they had not been content to encounter the ter- 
rors of fines and imprisonments, the loss of their domestic comforts, 
the prospects of fingering- disease and death, for the sake of their 
civil and religious liberties, — if they had not had the generosity and 
magnanimity, the virtue and the heroism, to tliink of their descend- 
ants as well as themselves, — what, it may surely be asked, would 
now be the situation of those descendants, and where would now be 
the reno^vned constitution of England ? 



LECTURE XV. 



CHARLES THE FIRST. 



In my last lecture I proposed to my hearers, when they came to 
the examination of this most interesting reign of Charles the First, 
to divide it into different intervals, and, during these intervals, to 
compare the conduct of the king and his Parliaments, the better to 

V 



254 LECTURE XV. 

appreciate, on the whole, the merits and demerits of the contendmg 
parties. 

Disquisitions of this kind form an important part of the instruction 
of history ; the great principles of human conduct are, on these oc- 
casions, examined and reflected upon, and we are thus enabled to 
draw general conclusions. The language, for instance, which I yes- 
terday quoted from Lord Clarendon, constituted, no doubt, much of 
his conversation to those around him at the time ; we see it after- 
wards the language of Hume ; it will be the language of a certain 
portion .of the community, and that by no means the least respecta- 
ble, at all times, whenever the conduct of any government becomes 
the subject of inquiry and remark. I therefore draw your attention 
to it. But I observed then, and I must repeat now, that such senti- 
ments would have been fatal to our ancestors and ourselves, if they 
had prevailed in the time of Charles. Their tendency is more or 
less fatal in every period of society ; and when a mixed and free con- 
stitution has been at length established, and general prosperity has 
been the natural result, this turn of thinking seems to be one of the 
last, but certainly one of the most formidable, enemies wliich any 
such mixed and free constitution has to encounter. 

After dividing the reign of Charles into two intervals, — the first, 
of four years from his accession, the next, of eleven years immedi- 
ately succeeding, — I mentioned to you, as a specimen of the trans- 
actions that took place, the Petition of Right and the question of 
tonnage and poundage. They gave occasion to the quotations I rec- 
ommended to your attention from Clarendon and Hume. 

It is to this second interval that belongs the celebrated question 
of ship-money. The very name of Hampden will recall it to your 
mind. Observe the instruction which is to be derived from some of 
the circumstances that took place ; observe the manner in which the 
great leaders of the popular pai-ty could be brought over to the 
court ; how even a man so able and so severe as the celebrated Noy, 
the attorney-general, could be so misled, or so flattered, as to be- 
come, in fact, the author of the writ for ship-money ; how the judges 
themselves could be tampered with ; how an opinion which they pro- 
nounced theoretically, and in the abstract, could be abused in prac- 
tice, and turned to the most illegal purposes ; how an exercise of the 
prerogative, confined and bounded in its original application, could 
be extended indefinitely, and converted into a regular mode of legis- 
lation, which it was no longer necessary in the court to justify, or 
allowable for the subject to question : Avhen remarks hke these have 
been made, we may surely see but too plainly how many are the 
dangers to which all civil liberty must be for ever exposed, — how 
precarious, as well as precious, is the blessing. Let us honor, as we 
ought, the constitution of England, but let us consider, as we ought, 
how and from whom we have received it, and we may then learn to 
pronounce with gratitude and reverence the name of Hampden. 



CHARLES THE FIRST. 255 

Such, indeed, have been the sentiments with which that name has 
always been pronounced by EngUshmen. The historian, Hume him- 
self, seems affected for one short moment by the common enthusiasm, 
when he arrives at this part of his narrative. When this asscrtor 
of the public cause, says he, had resisted the levy of ship-money, 
"the prejudiced or prostituted* judges, four excepted, gave sentence 
in favor of the crown. Hampden, however, obtained by the trial the 
end for which he had so generously sacrificed his safety and his ijuiet ; 
the people were roused from their lethargy, and became sensible of 
the danger to which their liberty was exposed. These national ques- 
tions were canvassed in every company, and the more they were ex- 
amined, the more evidently did it appear to many that liberty was 
totally subverted, and an unusual and arbitrary authority exercised 
over the kingdom. Slavish principles, tliey said, concurred with 
illegal practices ; ecclesiastical tyranny gave aid to civil usurpation ; 
iniquitous taxes were supported by arbitrary punishments ; and all the 
privileges of the nation, transmitted through so many ages, secured 
by so many laws, and purchased by the blood of so many heroes and 
patriots, now lay prostrate at the feet of the monarch ! What, though 
public peace and national industry increased the commerce and opu- 
lence of the kingdom ? This advantage was temporary, and due 
alone, not to any encouragement given by the crown, but to the spirit 
of the English, the remains of their ancient freedom. What, though 
the personal character of the king, amidst all his misguided councils, 
might merit indulgence, or even praise ? He was but one man ; and 
the privileges of the people, the inheritance of millions, were too val- 
uable to be sacrificed to his prejudices and mistakes." 

Here Mr. Hume, as if conscious what might be the influence of 
the eloquent reasonings and just statements which he was exhibiting, 
stops short, — it was certainly high time ; and, as if unwilling that 
his reader should be excited to a sentiment of patriotism too unqual- 
ified, he immediately subjoins : — " Such, or more severe, were the 
sentiments promoted by a great party in the nation. No excuse, on 
the king's part, or alleviation, however reasonable, could be hearkened 
to or admitted ; and to redress these grievances, a Parliament Avas 
impatiently longed for, or any other incident, however calamitous, 
that might secure the people against those oppressions which they 
felt, or the greater ills which they apprehended from the combined 
encroachments of church and state." 

My hearers will easily conceive that it is impossible for me in the 
shghtest manner to enter into any detail of the merits or demerits of 

* In the editions containinfj Hume's final correotinns this epithet is expunpred ; 
douhtless as beins one of the " many villanous, seditious AVTiig strokes " which he 
says " had crept into the work," in consequence of " tlie phxLruy prejudices of Whijr- 
jrism with which lie was too much infected when he bejran it." See Burton's Life 
and Correspondence of Hume (Edinburgh, 1846), "Vol. ii. pp. 144, 434. — N. 



256 LECTURE XV. 

the political questions that were agitated and of the struggle that ex- 
isted during these two intervals of fom- and of eleven years. I have 
attempted to do what alone I can hope to do ; I have pointed out a 
few of the more leading topics of political dissension, as specimens 
of the whole, and have oflFered such observations upon them as I am 
willing to beheve my hearers, when they come to examine the histo- 
ry, will think reasonable. But we must now look at this subject from 
another point of view. 

I have already appiised you that the Reformation had produced 
in England, as well as in other countries, great differences of opinion 
on rehgious subjects, and that, therefore, the rehgious principle got 
at length entangled in the political questions that agitated the nation. 
This will be immediately apparent. I have already touched upon a 
few of the points of civil dispute between the sovereign and his Par- 
liaments ; I must, therefore, now aUude to those of a rehgious na- 
ture, and therefore to the system of measures which Charles pursued 
"with respect to the neighbouring kingdom of Scotland. 

It is observed by Mr. Hume, ia the beginning of his fifty-third 
chapter, that " it was justly apprehended that such precedents," 
(alluding to those that took place on the disuse of Parhaments.) " if 
patiently submitted to, would end in a total disuse of Parhaments, 
and in the establishment of arbitrary authority" ; but that '• Charles 
dreaded no opposition from the people, who are not commonly much 
affected with consequences, and require some striking motive to en- 
gage them in a resistance of established government." 

This inertness and want of foresight, which the historian so justly 
supposes to belong to the mass of every cormnunity, would be, of all 
the characteristics of our nature, one of the most beneficial, if the 
rulers of mankind would not ungenerously abuse it ; but this they 
are always ready to do, often to the injury of the pubhc, and some- 
times even to their own destruction. 

Charles had been persevering in this faulty, or rather criminal 
course, for some time after the fourth year of his reign ; but as he 
added foUy to his pohtical transgressions, he at last supphed his sub- 
jects with that '• sticking motive " which the historian justly repre- 
sents as so necessary to rouse a people into rebeUion. 

Unfortunately for his royal house, both he and his father hved in 
a rehgious age, and their particular temperaments impelled them to 
introduce the rehgious principle into pohtics ; an unworthy direction, 
which, of itself, it would have been but too apt to take in the exist- 
ing circumstances of the world. James the First had pronounced 
the celebrated maxim of " Xo bishop, no king." The divines of the 
Church of England were in these times not wanting in their endeav- 
ours to establish the doctrine of passive obedience ; it was, indeed, 
supjwsed to be the unqualified doctrine of the Scriptures. A svm- 
pathy and a supposed bond of interest, to be carried blindly to any 



CHARLES THE FIRST. 257 

tmconstittitioiial length, were thus nnhappilv formed between the re- 
gal and episcopal power. Add to this, that the rehgion of Charles 
and the famous Laud was narrow and intolerant ; and iu a fatal hour 
it was resolved to introduce the canons and hturgy of the Church of 
England, or rather a modification of them, that was even more offen- 
sive, iato Scotland. 

It is needless to speak of the injustice as well as the imprudence 
of such an experiment ; but it is too important a feature in the 
portrait of these times not to require the most perfect consideration 
of every reader of our history. All that can be said in extenuation 
of Charles may be seen in Clarendon and in Hume : but you will do 
well to peruse much of this part of the history in Burnet : and 
certainly in Rushworth's Collections, where the dissimulation, obsti- 
nacy, and folly of the king are more fully shown than in Hxime or in 
Clarendon, and where the fanaticism of the members of the Scotch 
Church, or of the Kirk, may also be seen more completelv. by being 
displayed in the very words and expressions which they themselves 
used, and of which no adequate description can be given. Their 
Solemn League and Covenant, now that we are out of the reach of 
it, is, in spite of the seriousness of the subject, and the tremendous 
effects it produced, such a specimen of the Presbvterians and of the 
times, as to be. I had almost said, amusiug. I do not, upon the 
whole, think it proper to be quoted here, but you will of course 
peruse it attentively. 

It was ia vain that Charles at length made concessions to his 
Scottish subjects : these concessions were never made in time, and 
were never sufficient for the occasion. They never deserved the 
praise of magnanimity : and they therefore never reaped the benefit 
of it. From the first, his cause in Scotland was connnually verging 
to defeat and disgrace. However necessary he and Laud might con- 
ceive their own ecclesiastical institutions to be. the Covenanters were 
equally clear that such rehcs and images of Popery were quite fatal 
to all rational hopes of acceptance with the Deity. The king <irew 
the sword. — the obvious consequence, but the last fatal consumma- 
tion of his impohcy and intolerance. On the one hand, contributions 
were levied, by the influence of Laud, on the ecclesiastical bodies of 
England : while, on the other, the pulpits of Scotland resounded with 
anathemas against those who went not out to assist the Lord against 
the mighty : " Curse ye Meroz, curse ye bitterly," kc. kc. The 
result was, as it is desirable it may always be, that the cause of in- 
tolerance was successfully resisted. 

But the effects of this anempt of Charles and Laud were not to 
end with Scotland. The king could not wage war without expense, 
nor encounter expense without pressing upon his English subjects. 
After having made a pacification with the Scots, the Mng could not 
persuade himself fairlv to give up the contest, and he therefore once 
83 T * 



258 LECTURE XV. 

more collected an army, — an army which he could not pay ; and 
for the purpose of paying it, he was at last obliged to summon once 
more an English Parliament, — and this, after an intermission of 
eleven years, and after all his tyrannical expedients to do without 
one. 

And here commences a third interval, which I should propose to 
extend only to the king's journey into Scotland in the August of 
1641. This interval includes the ivliole sitting of the Parliament 
now called, and the first period of the proceedings of the next, the 
noted Parliament, afterwards called the Long Parliament ; it is a 
short interval of about a year ; but it is clearly to be distinguished 
from the two former intervals, when the conduct of the king was so 
deserving of reprobation, and again from the fourth or last interval, 
when the conduct of the Parliament was unequivocally wrong. Even 
in this third, this intermediate interval, the king was still, as I con- 
ceive, to be blamed, and the Parhament to be praised ; but this 
blame and this praise become now more questionable, and not to be 
given without some hesitation and reserve. 

When the Parliament met, it was soon evident that the king only 
wanted money ; while the Commons, on their part, were chiefly anx- 
ious for proper admissions on his, to secure the liberty of the subject. 
He could not wait, he said, for the result of discussions of this nature ; 
and desired to be suppUed in the first place, and to be trusted on 
his promise for a subsequent redress of their grievances. The Par- 
liament civilly evaded his request, and would not comply, — that is, 
would not, in fact, trust his promise ; they were therefore dissolved in 
haste and anger. 

This important measure, which was decisive of his fate and of the 
peace of the community, will be found, on examination, though it 
may not at first sight appear so, impolitic and unjustifiable. '* The 
vessel was now full," says Lord BoUngbroke, " and this last drop 
made the waters of bitterness overflow." It was the subject of the 
most sincere lamentation, and evidently a measure much disapproved 
by Lord Clarendon, then Mr. Hyde, and a most valuable member of 
the House of Commons, valuable both to the king and people. 

This unfortunate prince seems to have been, even at this advanced 
period of these dissensions, totally unable to comprehend his own 
situation, or make the slightest provision for future contingencies. 
As money could not be raised by Parliament, the former illegal ex- 
pedients were renewed. And we are here to consider what was the 
object, all this time, which the king was so resolved to accomplish. 
Was it justifiable, — the introduction of Laud's canons and liturgy 
into Scotland ? The event was, that an army undisciplined and ill 
paid was led against the Scots, and found unfit to contend with them ; 
and every thing being reduced to a state of exasperation and despair, 
the king, after calling a council of the peers at York, once more 



CHARLES THE FIRST. 259 

tlioiiglit proper to summon a Parliament. It was the last lie ever did 
summon ; it was the Long Parliament. 

Hitherto the feelings of Englishmen will sufficiently sympathize 
with the proceedings of the Commons. But as the contest between 
prerogative and privilege was longer continued, and grew more and 
more warm, it must necessarily be expected that the hazards and per- 
plexities of the great leaders of the House of Commons were to in- 
crease, and that right decisions were to be attained with more diffi- 
culty. After having been tried in the perilous warfare of doubtful 
and dangerous contest, a severer trial yet remained, that of success. 
They were now, if possible, though successful, to be wise and mod- 
erate. 

In civil dissensions it is quite impossible to suppose that misconduct 
will be found only on one side. Outrage and folly in one party are 
necessarily followed by similar offimces in the other ; and from the 
condition of human infirmity, it must inevitably happen, that, in ex- 
amining the merits and demerits of actors in scenes like these, the 
question is soon altered, and, ceasing to be an inquiry of which is in 
the right, becomes rather an investigation of which is least in the 
wrong. 

To the lasting honor of the Long Parhament, and, by implication, 
of the Parliaments that preceded, it docs not appear that its measures 
were, for a certain period, with one exception, the attainder of Lord 
Straflford, and perhaps also the vote for their own continuance, at all 
censurable ; on the contrary, they were highly laudable. The mem- 
bers of the Long Pai^iament would surely have been unworthy of 
their office, if they had not provided for the meeting of Parliaments, 
the integrity of the judges, the extinction of monopoUes, and the abo- 
lition of the Council of York, and the courts of Star-Chamber and 
High Commission. 

Lord Falkland and Lord Clarendon concurred, for a time, with the 
measures of the popular party of this Long Parhament ; and " the 
major part" of the House is stated by the latter to have " consisted of 
men who had no mind to break the peace of the kingdom, or to make 
any considerable alteration in the government of church or state." 
Mr. Hume himself, in his fifty-fourth chapter, gives the follomng 
opinion ; — observe the very considerate candor of his remarks : — 
" In short, if we take a survey of the transactions of this memorable 
Parliament," that is, the Long Parhament, " during the first period 
of its operations," the period we arc now considering, "we shall find, 
that, excepting Straffijrd's attainder, which was a compficatiou of 
cruel iniquity, their merits in other respects so much outweigh their 
mistakes, as to entitle them to praise from all lovers of liberty. Not 
only were former abuses remedied and grievances redressed, great 
provision for the future was made by law agamst the return of like 
complaints ; and if the means by which they obtained such advantages 



260 LECTURE XV. 

savor often of artifice, sometimes of violence, it is to be considered 
that revolutions of government cannot be eifected by the mere force 
of argument and reasoning, and that, factions being once excited, 
men can neither so firmly regulate the tempers of others, nor their 
own, as to insure themselves against all exorbitancies." The admis- 
sions of Mr. Hume are often very striking. 

Down, therefore, to the king's journey into Scotland in August, 
1641, the student will find, that, Avith the exceptions before stated, 
the attainder of Lord Strafford, and perhaps the vote of their own 
continuance, he may consider his country as for ever indebted to 
those who thus far resisted the arbitrary practices of pi-erogative ; 
that thus far they are perfectly entitled to the highest of all praise, — 
the praise of steady, courageous, and enlightened patriotism. 

The next interval that may be taken is the period that elapsed be- 
tween the king's journey to Scotland in August, 1641, and the com- 
mencement of hostilities. During this, the fourth interval, the meas- 
ures of the Commons became violent and unconstitutional. That 
this should be the case may be lamented, but cannot, for the reasons 
already mentioned, excite much surprise. There were, however, 
various circumstances which still further contributed most unhappily 
to produce these mistaken and blamable proceedings. I will mention 
some of them ; they must be considered as explanations and pallia- 
tives of the faults that were committed. 

For instance, and in the first place. Lord Clarendon, after giving 
the testimony which I have quoted, to the general good intentions of 
the Long Parliament, distinguishes the great body of the House from 
some of the great leaders of the popular party, — from Pym, Hamp- 
den, St. John, Fiennes, Sir Harry Vane, and Denzil Holies, &c. 
That men like these, men of great ability, should be found in an as- 
sembly like the House of Commons is not to be wondered at ; nor 
that such men should be of a high and impetuous nature, or should 
succeed in their endeavours to lead the rest, — men of calmer sense 
and more moderate tempers. Finally, w^e cannot be surprised that 
moderate men of this last description should be deficient in their at- 
tendance on the House, should be wanting in activity, and, above all, 
in a just confidence in themselves. That all this should happen, as, 
according to the noble historian, seems to have been the case, may 
readily be supposed. This inactivity, however, this want of confi- 
dence in themselves, was fatal to the state ; and it is from circum- 
stances like these that this period of our history is only rendered 
still more deserving of the study of every Englishman, and of all 
posterity ; that men of genius, who are the more daring guides, may 
learn the temptations of their particular nature, and that men of 
colder sense, who are the more safe guides, may be taught their 
own value, — may be made to feel that it is they alone who ought, 
not indeed to propose, but ultimately to decide, and, though they 



CHARLES THE FIRST. 261 

may not apparently lead, at least determine and in fact prescribe the 
course that is to be pursued, — that it is their duty in this, their 
proper province, to exert themselves manfully and without ceasing. 

For instance, the great occasion on which the moderate party, 
failed was in the prosecution of Lord Straiford. That he was to be 
impeached by the leaders must have been expected ; that he deserv- 
ed it may be admitted ; but that, when the existing laws did not sen- 
tence him to condign punishment, when no ingenuity could prove 
that he had capitally offended, then for the leaders to bring in a bill 
of attainder, that is, a bill to execute him with or without law, by the 
paramount authority of Parliament, or rather of the House of Com- 
mons, acting merely on their own moral estimation of the case, — all 
this was what no moderate, reasonable men should ever have admit- 
ted ; and they ought surely to have considered, that, if they were 
once to be hurried over an act of injustice, a real crime against the 
laws, like this, it was impossible to say into what offences they might 
not afterwards be plunged, by the violence of which they saw their 
leaders were certainly capable, on the one part, and by what they 
already knew of the indiscretion and arbitrary nature of the king, 
on the other. 

The very animated and eloquent Lord Digby exerted his great 
powers on this occasion. There is something of a doubtful shade 
hangs over the purity of his conduct in these transactions. But his 
speech to the House of Commons is on record, and ought to have 
decided the vote of every member present. It should by all means 
be read ; you will find it in Cobbett. The proceedings of the House, 
and the fate of the speech, — for it was too just and sensible not to 
excite indignation at the time and to be burnt by the common hang- 
man, — afford a lesson which should never be forgotten. 

The multitude, ever clamorous for punishment and public execu- 
tions, ever careless of those forms of law in which they are of all 
others so deeply interested, might well have terrified even the Com- 
mons themselves, and made them pause ; a very httle self-examina- 
tion might have enabled these legislators to discover that they saw 
displa^'cd in the furious looks and voices of the mob only a ruder im- 
age of their own intemperate thirst for vengeance and dangerous dis- 
regard of the established principles of justice. 

But to proceed with my subject. I will now mention another rea- 
son to account for the unconstitutional proceedings of the Commons, 
in addition to the reason just alluded to, the inertness of the moder- 
ate men. It is this : the peculiar nature of the times in which the 
great leaders of the Commons happened to live. The age of the 
Long Parliament was a religious age. A very hvely portrait of the 
different sects and parties, and their principles of speculation and 
action, may be seen in Hume, in Millar, and in Clarendon. Now the 
nature of this religious principle, and its effects on all men, must 



262 LECTURE XV. 

serve to excuse the effects which it also produced on the conduct of 
the members of the Long Parhament. 

No further observation is, I think, necessary on this part of the 
.subject. In the authors I have just mentioned you will see all that 
you may readily conceive ; you Avill see how the religious principle 
so interfered, as to render all the diflferent parties in the state, not 
only the king and Laud, but also the members of the Long Parlia- 
ment, obstinate, unforgiving, and unreasonable, till all the real lovers 
of their country were buried, with themselves, in a common destruc- 
tion. 

Again, and in the third place, it must be observed, that various 
incidents occurred of the most untoward nature (the Irish rebellion, 
for instance), all contributing to mislead those who directed the pa- 
triotic party, and to increase the perplexities and calamities of the 
scene. 

But I will mention one circumstance more, in the fourth and last 
place, to account for the mistakes and faults and unconstitutional 
proceedings of the Long Parliament. It is this : the conduct of the 
king himself. This conduct was marked with such a total want of 
foresight and prudence as made all reasonable system in his oppo- 
nents impossible. To adopt, for the sake of illustration, a famiUar 
allusion, — you cannot play a game, if your opponent observes not 
the common rules of it. The student may take, as an instance, his 
visit to the House of Commons to seize the five members. 

Such are the four heads, under some of which may be included all 
those very peculiar events and circumstances which I conceive should 
be taken into consideration, when we decide on the blamable proceed- 
ings and objectionable temper of the Long Parliament ; they will 
certainly explain and extenuate all, — excuse, perhaps, if not justify, 
much of their conduct : — 1. The inertness of the moderate men ; 
2. The peculiar nature of the times, and the rehgious nature of 
them ; 3. The various untoward incidents that occurred, — the Irish 
rebellion, for example ; 4. The totally unreasonable conduct of the 
king, which made any reasonable system in his opponents so difficult 
and impossible. 

The result of the whole was, that the Parliamentary leaders did 
not choose to trust the king ; and they required from him, for their 
own security, and the security of the subject (which, it must be ob- 
served, was now identified with their own, for, if they had failed, no 
further resistance could have been again expected), — they required, 
I say, such concessions as trenched on the prerogative of the crown 
more than any precedents warranted, more than any constitutional 
view of the subject would have authorized in any ordinary situation 
of the political system, more than would have been favorable to the 
interests of England at any subsequent period. The question, there- 
fore, which we have at length to decide, is this : — whether these 



CHARLES THE FIRST. 263 

leaders were justified in this distrust of the crown, or not ; wliether 
they demanded more than was necessary for their own security, and 
the security of the constitution, which, as I have before observed, 
were now identified ; for if they failed, as I must repeat, no subse- 
quent effort could have been expected from others. 

And this question ought, in candor, to be argued on the supposi- 
tion that the king was in reality as deeply impressed with the rights 
of his prerogative as ever, — as little disposed as ever to rule by 
Parliaments, if he could do without them, — as little disposed as ever 
to consider the exertions of the leaders of the Commons in opposition 
to his authority as any other than disobedience and rebellion, which 
ought to be punished, according to their various degrees, by fine, im- 
prisonment, or death ; for these are the inferences that may clearly 
be drawn from his character, his education, and all the speeches and 
actions of his reign, down to the very period to which we now allude. 

But, though this appears nothing more than a fair statement of the 
case, it does not follow that the Parliamentary leaders should, there- 
fore, not have trusted the king, or should not have thought them- 
selves sufficiently safe and successful, after they had once secured, 
by law and by his public concessions, such material points as the call- 
ing of Parliaments, the right of taxation, and the aboUtion of the 
courts of Star-Chamber and High Commission. 

We are called upon to examine whether they did not underesti- 
mate their own strength, — whether they appear to have considered 
how great was the victory which they had obtained, — whether they 
seem to have asked themselves the reason of it, — whether, in short, 
they did not make the same mistake Avhich is so naturally, so con- 
stantly, made by all who engage in contests of this or any other kind, 
the mistake of never supposing that an opponent has been sufficiently 
depressed. 

The same mistake was made in the late revolution in France. The 
patriotic party of that country, the leaders of the Constituent Assem- 
bly of 1789, could never bring themselves to beheve that they were 
sufficiently secure from the court and their opponents, — that the 
executive power was sufficiently weakened ; and the same difficulty 
or error operated, as in our own country, to the destruction of the 
king and themselves. 

It is scarcely to be expected, that, in these dreadful conjunctures 
of human affairs, this particular mistake should not often be made, — 
so many are the causes which concur to produce it ; but I think it 
must be allowed that the mistake was committed by the Parliamentary 
leaders. 

The mistake, however, be it made when it may, is sure to be at- 
tended by the most fatal effects. The old system, Avliich those who 
have loved their country meant only to improve, is inevitably de- 
stroyed ; and the early patriots, the men of sense and virtue, are 



264 LECTURE XV. 

overwhelmed in the general calamity. They have grasped the pillars 
of the temple ; the temple falls, and, like the strong man of holy writ, 
they bury in the ruins themselves as well as their opponents. 

After all, there can be no doubt, that, if the question had been a 
question of prerogative and privilege only, the proceedings of the 
Commons would have been far more, and perhaps sufficiently, moder- 
ate and constitutional ; but the misfortune was, that these dissensions 
were not merely of a civil, but also of a rehgious nature. How and 
to what extent they were of a religious nature should now be ex- 
plained to you. 

But here, as at every moment during these particular lectures on 
the times of Charles the First and the Commonwealth, I could wish 
the pages of Hume and Millar quite present to your minds. It is 
very disagreeable to me to be so conscious as I must be, that I am 
leaving great blanks behind me, as I go on ; it is like exhibiting to 
you the anatomy of the human form, by way of a portrait. I comfort 
myself with believing that Hume and Millar are books which you can- 
not but read, and you will then see how impossible it would have 
been for me, on the one side, to have discussed any topics but those 
they have selected, and yet, on the other, how impossible to have 
given here from their works any extracts sufficiently copious, — 
their reasonings are so many, so beautiful, and so weighty. On this 
present occasion, for instance, you can only in their writings find a 
masterly and adequate exhibition of the religious as well as civil 
nature of this contest ; the different sects, their views, mistakes, and 
merits. 

I can simply mention here, what you must from this time remem- 
ber, that there Avere, more particularly, four different descriptions 
of religious opinion, — the Roman Catholics, the members of the 
Church of England, the Presbyterians, and, lastly, the Independ- 
ents ; that, of the four descriptions of religious opinion that existed in 
the country at the time, the Presbyterians and Independents were 
naturally separated from those of the Roman Cathohc and Church of 
England communion ; and, however differing from each other in the 
most important points, were united in their common hatred to the 
hierarchy, and in their common wish for a form of worship more simple 
than that estabhshed ; at all events, they were both resolved to have 
no bishops. 

As Charles and Laud could not be satisfied unless they attempted 
to introduce Episcopacy into Scotland, the Puritanical interest in 
England thought their labors and patriotism in the House of Com- 
mons imperfect, unless they, in like manner, improved, according to 
their own particular notions, the church government of England. In 
their debates, therefore, their petitions and their remonstrances to 
the king, instead of finding the great principles of civil government, 
and those only, insisted upon, we are totally fatigued and overpower- 



CHARLES THE FIRST. 265 

ed by eternal complaints and invectives against Popish priests, the 
non-execution of penal laws, diabolical plots, and malignant counsel- 
lors. It is not only Strafford that is impeached, but also Laud ; it is 
not only the right of the Commons to concur in the taxation of the 
people that is to be asserted, but the bishops are to have no vote in 
the House of Lords ; and when the mobs assemble about the doors of 
the houses of Parliament, the streets resound, not with the cry of 
Parliament and privilege, but of " No Popish prelates, no rotten- 
hearted lords," &c., &c. ; and it is not corrupt counsellors or arbitrary 
judges, but it is the bisho2)s, that escape with difficulty from the fury 
of this theological populace. We must therefore consider whether the 
Long Parliament would have acted as they did in any ordinary state 
of their minds and feelings, — whether the king would have found it 
so difficult to satisfy, at least to appease them, — whether their jealousy 
would have been so sensitive, their dissatisfaction so constant, their 
complaints so ceaseless, captious, and unreasonable, if they had not 
been, in a word, sectarians as well as patriots. 

The celebrated Remonstrance which was at last presented to the 
king, and was so fitted by its tedious ill-humor to drive him to any 
possible extremity, was with great difficulty carried, and if it had not 
been carried, Cromwell told Lord Falkland he would have quitted 
the kingdom : that is, in other words, this manifesto, upon which sub- 
sequent events so materially turned, was vitally dear to the Independ- 
ents ; and would probably not have been proposed, much less voted, 
if the great constitutional question of prerogative and privilege had 
not been interwoven with others of a theological nature, — questions 
by which, it unfortunately happens, that the minds of men may at 
any time be exasperated and embittered to any possible degree of 
fury and absurdity. It remauis, therefore, to consider, lastly, how 
far the Presbyterians are to be censured for this, their resolution to 
have the government altered in church as w^ell as in state. 

Those among ourselves, living in a subsequent age, who have been 
properly enlightened by the past, who not only see the duty of mutu- 
al tolerance, but act upon it, and who do not think it necessary that 
our own particular notions in religion or politics should be established 
and made to take the lead, merely because we believe them true, — 
those of us who so properly understand the principles of Christianity 
and the duties of civilized society, such of us, if any there be, may 
perhaps have some little right to censure the Presbyterian faction. 
But no such censure could be exercised, at that unhappy period, by 
any of the actors in the scene ; — not by Charles himself, nor Laud, 
nor the Episcopalian party, for they had attempted the same in Scot- 
land ; not by any church or sect then existing, for it was an age of 
religious wars and mutual persecution. 

In our moral criticisms, therefore, on the parties of these times, 
when we are speaking, it is to be remembered, not of the early 
U w 



266 LECTURE XV. 

patriots, but of the members of the Long Parliament, we have some, 
and yet but little, preference to make. Charles and the Episcopa- 
lians were guilty of the first act of hostility, — at least, of the first 
violent, and even cruel proceedings, — the Presbyterians, of urging 
their victory too far. If Charles and Laud had succeeded, the civil 
and religious liberties of England would have perished ; and subse- 
quently the Presbyterians could not succeed, but by such measures 
as rendered a civil war inevitable. It may be possible to determine 
which alternative is the worst, but mankind can have no greater ene- 
mies than those who reduce them to either. 

Charles Avas guilty of a great want of political sagacity, in not 
perceiving the growing strength of the Commons, and, when he saw 
the increasing number of the sectaries, in not considering well the 
cautious and moderate system which he was to adopt when such men 
were to be opposed to his designs. 

But the Presbyterians, in like manner, seem inexcusable for not 
taking into their account the growing strength and the increasing 
numbers of the Independents. The most violent of the Presbyteri- 
ans had no intention to overthrow the monarchy. But when they 
ceased to act on a system of acconmwdation with the king, they ex- 
posed every thing to the ultimate decision of violence. They might 
themselves wish only for a limited monarchy, and for presbyters in 
the Church instead of bishops ; but a set of men remained behind 
them, the Independents, indisposed to all monarchy and ecclesiastical 
government whatever ; and they were guilty of the fault, either of 
not properly obser\dng the numbers and tenets of such men, or of not 
perceiving, that, if they urged their differences with the king to the 
decision of the sword, or even to the immediate chance of it, men of 
this violent, unreasonable character must multiply, and be produced 
by the very urgencies of the times, and could not fail of ultimately 
overpowering the king, the Parliament, and all who differed with 
them. 

It must at the same time be confessed, that it is the great misfor- 
tune of all critical periods like these, that parties cannot very imme- 
diately be distinguished from each other. They advance together 
under the same standards to a certain point, and then, and not be- 
fore, they separate and take different directions ; and as fury and 
absurdity are sure to be the most relished by the multitude, and at 
some time or other to have the ascendant, moderate men perceive not 
in time, that, on public as well as on private grounds, there is more 
danger to be apprehended from many of those who appear to go 
along with them than from those who are their visible, decided, and 
declared opponents. 

Observations of this kind have been again illustrated by the late 
revolution in France, and may therefore seem to indicate principles 
in human nature, that on such dreadful occasions will always exhibit 
themselves. 



CHARLES THE FIRST. 267 

The vote of the Remonstrance is an epocli in this calamitous con- 
test. The Commons are not to be justified in presenting this Remon- 
strance, nor to be justified in their subsequent measures. It may be 
very true, that their proceedings, till the king's departure into Scot- 
land in 1641, with the exception of Lord Strafford's attainder, and 
perhaps the vote for their own continuance, were (more particularly 
in the more early periods of the contest) most laudable and patriotic, 
but that they never were so afterwards. They had obtained all the 
great points necessary to the constitution ; and the king told them 
in June, when he had finished his concessions by taking away the 
courts of Star-Chamber and High Commission, and with reason told 
them, that, if they would consider what he had done in that Parlia- 
ment, " discontent would not sit in their hearts." " I hope you re- 
member," he added, " I have granted that the judges hereafter shall 
hold their places, quamdiu bene se gesserint ; I have bounded the 

forests ; I have established the property of the subject ; 

I have established, by act of ParUament, the property of the subject 
in tonnage and poundage ; I have granted a law for a trien- 
nial Parhament ; I have given free course of justice against 

delinquents ; I have put the laws in execution against Papists ; nay, 
I have given way to every thing that you have asked of me, and 
therefore, methmks, you should not wonder, if, in some things, I be- 
gin to refuse : I will not stick upon trivial matters, to give 

you content." 

I would therefore fix the attention of the student on the famous 
Remonstrance, and the proceedings relating to it, as the particular 
point where his opinion must, as I conceive, begin most materially to 
alter. After this celebrated Remonstrance, the papers on each side 
(which were, in fact, appeals to the people, as was, indeed, the Re- 
monstrance itself) become very voluminous, and will somewhat over- 
power you. Some general idea must be formed of them by some 
sort of general perusal ; but the king's cause may, from this time, be 
rested on this very Remonstrance alone, a paper drawn up by the 
Pai'Hament itself, and quite decisive of the comparative merits of the 
king and the House of Commons, from the moment that it was de- 
livered. 

Once more, therefore, and finally, to recall to your minds what I 
conceive are the points of tliis great question. During the first in- 
terval of four years, the conduct of the king seems infatuated and 
highly reprehensible ; and during the second mterval of eleven years, 
even more and more to be reprobated, I had almost said to be abhor- 
red. During the third interval, of little more than a year, the blame 
still remains with the king, and the praise with the Commons ; — clear- 
ly, however, with one exception, the execution of Strafford ; and per- 
haps Avith another, their vote for their own continuance. During the 
fourth interval, however, from the journey to Scotland in August, 



268 LECTURE XVI. 

1641, to the commencement of hostilities, the Commons, in their turn, 
became wrong ; but the question of their conduct is still for some 
time, in the opinion of many, somewhat difficult ; the question is, 
whether they were pushing their victory too far, or only securing 
their ground. Hyde decided one way, and Hampden another ; and 
perhaps the student may, at this distance of time, and after the 
event, on the whole perceive that Hyde was the more rational patriot 
of the two. 

I have thus proposed, not to your acquiescence, but to your exam 
ination, such general conclusions upon the different intervals which I 
have selected as the transactions which they exhibit appeared to me 
fairly to suggest. But these transactions were so numerous, yet all 
so important, that not only was it impossible for me to give any de- 
tail of them, but it was impossible to state all the observations to 
which they successively gave rise, even in my own mind. What 
alone I have been able to offer to your consideration has been general 
results, founded on such observations. I would recommend a similar 
course to each of my hearers : let such reflections as strike him, 
while he reads the history, be immediately noted down at the time ; 
let the whole chain be then surveyed, and general results and esti- 
mates formed ; otherwise the later impressions which the mind re- 
ceives, in the course of the perusal, will have an effect more than 
proportionate to their comparative weight and importance. Do not 
turn away from investigations of this nature. There are those, no 
doubt, who proceed not in this manner, — practical men, men of the 
world, and respectable and even laborious writers : with them every 
thing on the one side is right, and on the other is wrong. This is 
not the way, in my opinion, to read history. It is not the way to 
judge of our fellow-creatures, or to improve ourselves. 



LECTURE XVI. 



THE CIVIL WAR. 



In my last two lectures I offered to your consideration the results 
of such observations as had occurred to me on the great contest that 
subsisted between the king and Parliament prior to the breaking out 
of the Civil War, more particularly with regard to their comparative 
merits and demerits. 

The mihtary transactions of the Civil War that ensued may be 



THE CIVIL WAR. 269 

collected from Hume, and still more In the detail from Clarendon. 
In the former author will also be found a philosophic estimate of the 
strength and resources of the contending parties, and of their sepa- 
rate probabilities of success. Disquisitions of this kind, more par- 
ticularly from such an author, are highly deserving of your attention. 
The entertainment and instruction of history can never be properly 
felt or understood, as I cannot too often remark, unless you meditate 
upon the existing circumstances of the scene, suppose them before 
you, and estimate the probabilities that they present ; then marking 
the events that really take place, thus derive a sort of experience in 
the aifairs of mankind, which may enable you to determine with 
greater precision and success, on occasions when you may yourselves 
be called upon to act a part, and when the happiness of your country 
and your own may, more or less, be affected by the propriety of your 
decisions. Materials for such disquisitions, and such exercise of the 
judgment, are often supplied by Clarendon, and they constitute, in- 
deed, one material and appropriate part of the value of all original 
writers of history. In original writers, the real scene is presented to 
you in colors more vivid and more exact. 

The king seems to have been every way unfortunate. With suffi- 
cient courage and ability to make him the proper general of his own 
forces, he was still not possessed of that military genius which is fit- 
ted to triumph over difficulties, which can turn to its own purposes 
the dispositions of men and the opportunities and unsuspected advan- 
tages of every situation, which can seem by these means to control 
the decisions of chance and to command success. That a soldier, 
however, of this description should arise against him on the popular 
side was to be expected ; a captain like CromAvell was sure to appear, 
at least to exist, in the ranks of his opponents. But that such a 
general as Fairfax should be found among the men of distinction in 
the country, and yet be opposed to his cause, this might surely be 
considered by the king as a hard dispensation of fortune ; still hard- 
er, if it be considered that Fairfax was, of all men that history pre- 
sents, tlie most fitted for the purposes of a soldier like Cromwell: 
too honest to have criminal designs of his own ; too magnanimous to 
suspect them in those around him ; superior to every other in the 
field ; inferior in the cabinet ; enthusiastic enough to be easily de- 
ceived, but not enough to be a hypocrite and to deceive others. 

The character of Cromwell seems the natural production of the 
times, though, it must be confessed, the most complete specimen of 
their influence that can well be imagined ; still, the character itself 
consists but of the common materials, — courage, fierceness, decisive 
sense, clear sagacity, and strong ambition ; all, no doubt, given in a 
very eminent degree, added to such qualities as resulted from an age 
of religious dispute ; and the whole nourished and dra^NTi out in the 
most extraordinary manner, by the temptations and urgencies of a 

w* 



270 LECTURE XVI. 

revolutionary period. Hampden early predicted his future eminence, 
on one supposition, — the breaking out of a civil war. 

From the moment that the sword was drawn, all wise and good 
men must, vnth Lord Falkland, have been overpowered with the most 
afflicting expectations. One of two alternatives, equally painful, 
could alone have occurred to them as probable : either that the king 
would conquer, and the privileges of the subject, and all future de- 
fence of them, be swept away in his triumph ; or that the Parliament 
would prevail, and the result be, that the whole government, for want 
of some proper constitutional head, would fall into the disposal of the 
army, and be seized upon by some of its great captains, to the total 
degradation, and probably to the destruction, of the existing mon- 
arch, — perhaps even of the ancient forms of monarchy itself. 

I must leave you to examine for yourselves the various events of 
the Civil War, — the military operations in the field, and the trans- 
actions in Parliament, — all of them very interesting. They may be 
found in the regular historians (particularly Clarendon), and in the 
accounts that have come down to us of the debates in the Long Par- 
liament. I can only make a few observations on some of the leading 
transactions, chiefly those of a civil nature. 

Among other objects of attention, the Self-denying Ordinance 
should be noticed. On this occasion, the parties came to issue, — 
the Presbyterians and Independents ; the one, who wished for Pres- 
bytery and monarchy ; the other, who had abandoned themselves to 
their own imaginary schemes of perfection in religion and govern- 
ment; most of them, probably, without any settled notions in either. 
Violence and enthusiasm, the great banes of all public assemblies in 
times of disorder, at last prevailed, and the Self-denying Ordinance 
was carried. By this ordinance, the members of both houses were 
excluded from all the important civil and military employments. The 
Presbyterians, who were in power, were, by this contrivance, obliged 
to resign it. Yet, when the evasion of the ordinance by Cromwell is 
also considered, a more barefaced political expedient cannot easily be 
imagined. The very idea of it, not to say the success of it, as de- 
scribed by Lord Clarendon, and as seen in the speeches and subse- 
quent conduct of Cromwell, who contrived to elude it and retain his 
command, is quite characteristic of this strange period of our his- 
tory. It was, in truth, an expedient to clear the army from all the 
more moderate men who were then in command. 

After the Self-denying Ordinance, the treaty of Uxbridge must be 
considered as the next principal object of attention. The proceed- 
ings are very fully detailed by an actor in the scene. Lord Claren- 
don ; and as this was quite a crisis in the contest, the question is, 
when the negotiation did not lead to accommodation and peace. 
Which party w^as in fault ? To me, I confess, the conclusion from 
the whole seems to be, that the Presbyterians were in fault, and that 



THE CIVIL WAR. 271 

tlicy cannot be forgiven for not closing with the king immediately on 
the terms which he proposed, not merely from a sense of propriety 
and justice, but from the apprehension with which Cromwell and the 
Independents ought to have inspired them. It even appears, from a 
curious conference mentioned by Whitelocke, which was held one 
night at Essex House, before the Self-denying Ordinance had been 
moved in the House, that Cromwell was already dreaded ; yet no 
danger, no distress, could produce any reasonable effect either on the 
Presbyterians in Parliament or on the king. Religious considerations 
had, ixnhappily, interfered to make what was difficidt impossible. 
The king could not entirely give up Episcopacy, and the Presby- 
terians, with still more of theological infatuation, were determined to 
have their Presbytery exclusively established. All hopes of accom- 
modation were at an end. " Most sober men," says Whitelocke, 
" lamented the sudden breach of the treaty." 

The victory of Naseby followed, and the cause of the king was 
desperate. This is, again, a sort of epoch in this contest. Charles, 
not possessed of the genius that can sometimes make even a desperate 
cause at last triumphant, repaired, without speculating very long or 
reasonably upon the consequences, to the Scotch army. The Scotch 
army could discover, in their new situation, no better course to pur- 
sue than at all events to make the king a means of procuring their 
arrears from the English Parliament, and to barter the person of 
their sovereign for the money that was due to them. It might 
be thought that a common question of account might have been 
settled by the godly (so they termed themselves), on each side of 
the Tweed, on the usual principles of arithmetic and honesty, — cer- 
tainly without so unusual a transfer as the person of their monarch ; 
but not so : it was in this manner, it seems, that the differences be- 
tween the two parties could best be adjusted. The bargain was 
settled, the king was delivered up, and the Scotch retired to their 
own country. Their posterity have ever since been ashamed of this 
coarse and disgraceful transaction, for, after every explanation of it, 
such it is ; and if the Enghsh were ashamed also, they would do 
themselves no injustice. 

From this period we must be occupied in observing the mistakes 
and faults of the king and the Presbyterians on the one side, the guilt 
of Cromwell and the Independents on the other. 

In the first place, we must cast our eyes on the conduct of the 
army. The scene that by reasonable men must have been long ex- 
pected now opened. The army, having no enemy to contend with in 
the field, began, under the direction of Cromwell, to control the Par- 
liament, the Presbyterians. The proceedings of an armed body of 
men like this, on such an occasion, are, unhappily, but too deserving 
of our very particular observation. 

But the conduct of the Presbyterians, and of those in the House 



272 LECTURE XVI. 

■who meant well, continued as injudicious as ever. The soldiers had 
real cause of complaint, and the Parliament made the usual mistake 
of all regular assemblies, when dealing with irregular combinations 
of men : they did not take care, in the first place, to do them justice ; 
they did not take care, as soon as possible, to put themselves entirely 
in the right ; they were, as usual, too proud to be wise ; they therefore, 
no doubt, gave Cromwell and those who meant ill every advantage. 
They even committed other mistakes still more unpardonable, by 
sending down to the army Cromwell and the very incendiaries them- 
selves to compose differences. When the Parliament became more 
reasonable and just, it was, as is usually the case, too late. 

And now was the season when the king was to commit Ms politi- 
cal mistakes. While he was, in fact, at the disposal and in the hands 
of the army, he had to deal with the Parliament and the Presbyterian 
faction and the Scotch Covenanters, as one party, — with the army 
and Independents, as another. There is something of doubt hangs 
over the intentions of Cromwell and the army on this occasion, — 
whether they really meant to support the king, and restore him to 
his constitutional authority, or not. Sir John Berkley's Memoirs 
speak of a very fair and reasonable negotiation on their part. His 
account may be found also incorporated into the history of Ludlow. 
Clarendon seems not to think much of the importance of this nego- 
tiation ; but he did not hke Berkley. It is on the whole, however, 
plain, that Charles unfortunately supposed he should, in the existing 
situation of the parties of the state, be called in as an umpire ; many 
prudent men, according to Lord Clarendon, expected the same ; and 
in this fatal indecision and vain wish to keep well with all descrip- 
tions of men, Charles could not be properly trusted by any, least of 
all by men violent and decided like Cromwell and Ireton. Charles 
was no controller of circumstances and of the minds of others, and 
no discerner of characters and opportunities. He made no advan- 
tage of his situation, and insensibly approached his scaffold, not his 
throne. 

The last specimen of political infatuation in the Presbyterians and 
the king yet remained, — their conduct during the treaty in the Isle 
of Wight : another important point of attention. The army had, in 
the most illegal manner, interfered with the Parliament, had become 
their masters, and perfectly tyrannized over them. In this state of 
things, insurrections in favor of the king appeared in different parts 
of the kingdom ; and a regular attempt was made by the Scotch with 
all their forces in favor of him and of the Parliament. For one precious 
interval, therefore, the Presbyterians were relieved from the domina- 
tion of Cromwell and the army, who were sent to put down these in- 
surgents. As the Presbyterians were all of them attached to a mon- 
archical form of government, there was once more a possibility of a 
conciliation between them and the king. Cromwell and his army 



THE CIVIL WAR. 273 

were employed, and at such a distance that they could give no inter- 
ruption. A treaty was begun, but no adequate progress was made, 
— no progress, till the army returned, — returned triumphant, and 
with all their counsels of violence and guilt : the opportunity of peace 
was lost for ever. 

The question, then, is here, as before in the treaty of Uxbridge, 
Was the king or the Parliament most in fault ? The great load of 
pohtical folly, even of moral criminality, must faU upon the Parlia- 
ment ; for their terms were abominably unfeeling and unjust. In 
consequence of the pertinacious, dilatory, impolitic conduct of the 
Presbyterians, before the king's final propositions for peace could be 
adjusted and debated, Cromwell and the army had marched to the 
metropolis, and every member of the House who deUvered an opinion 
consonant to right and justice, and favorable to any accommodation 
with the king, did it at the hazard of imprisonment and death. 

In this calamitous state of things, the famous Prynne rose up in 
his place, and delivered a speech in defence of the king's answers to 
the propositions of Parliament. Long as it is, I cannot but recom- 
mend it to an entire and attentive perusal. Allowance must be made 
for the violence of the author's prejudices in favor of Presbytery and 
against Popery, and when this allowance has been made, it will be 
found that a train of persuasion more fairly drawn out and more 
clearly conducted to effect a particular purpose has seldom been pro- 
duced before a public assembly. You will see it in Cobbett. Cer- 
tainly a more striking exhibition of principle never occurred. Prvnne 
was speaking in an assembly overawed by soldiers, in a situation that 
might have made a Roman shrink. Every reason that could irritate 
the heart of man concurred to render him inveterate against the king. 
He had to preface his arguments with relating what he had endured 
from him. He said, that at two diflferent times he had suffered muti- 
lations in the most barbarous manner (these are specimens, it is to be 
observed, of the conduct of Charles and Laud, — note them) ; that 
he had been set upon three several pillories ; that his hcensed books 
had been burnt before his face by the hangman ; that tivo fines, each 
of five thousand pounds, (what a sum in those days !) had been im- 
posed upon him ; that he had been expelled out of the Inns of Court 
and the University of Oxford, and degraded in both ; that he had lost 
his calling almost nine years' space ; that his books had been seized, 
and his estate ; that he had been eight years imprisoned in several 
prisons ; that four of these years had been spent in close imprison- 
ment and exile, at Caernarvon and in the Isle of Jersey, where he 
was debarred the use of pen, ink, paper, and all books almost but the 
Bible, without the least access of any friend, or any allowance of diet 
for his support ; — and all this for bis good service to the state in op- 
posing Popery and regal tyranny. 

Yet did this virtuous man continue to reason out his conclusion, 
35 



274 LECTURE XVI. 

hour after hour, with the most patient and penetrating sagacity, — 
continue to show himself superior ahke to the meanness of fear from 
Cromwell and the soldiers, and the remembrance of all the ferocious 
insults and all the abominable pains and penalties which he had en- 
dured from Charles and his advisers ; in defiance of all, he continued 
to enforce upon the House, by the exertion of every faculty he could 
command, his own upright declaration, that they were bound in honor, 
prudence, justice, and conscience, to proceed upon the king's propo- 
sitions to the speedy settlement of the peace of the kingdom. 

Still further to the credit of human nature, it is to be mentioned, 
that this speech had a most clear and positive effect, — that many 
members were converted to his side, — that his opinion prevailed, and 
would probably have prevailed by a far larger majority, if nearly one 
third of the House, from age and infirmities, had not been obliged to re- 
tire. The debate had lasted without intermission for a day and a night. 

The subsequent events are but too well known. Cromwell and the 
army sent Colonel Pride to clear the House of all who were disposed 
to an accommodation with the king. The pubhc execution of the 
sovereign followed. 

This cruel and dreadful outrage has given occasion to much reason- 
ing with respect to the nature of government, and the original grounds 
of civil obedience. No subject can be more interesting, and it may 
very properly employ your meditations when jon arrive at an event 
so afflicting and so awful as the public execution, in the midst of a 
civilized community, of the great and high magistrate of the realm. 

On such a subject, the observations of such a writer as Hume will 
naturally engage your attention. " Government," says this philo- 
sophic historian, " is instituted in order to restrain the fury and in- 
justice of the people ; and being always founded on opinion, not on 
force, it is dangerous to weaken the reverence which the multitude 

owe to authority The doctrine of obedience ought alone to be 

inculcated, and the exceptions, which are rare, ought seldom or never 
to be mentioned in popular reasonings and discourses. Nor is there 
any danger that mankind, by this prudent reserve, should universally 
degenerate into a state of abject servitude. When the exception 

really occurs, it must, from its very nature, be so obvious 

and undisputed, as to remove all doubt, and overpower the restraint, 
however great, imposed by teaching the general doctrine of obedi- 
ence. But between resisting a prince and dethroning him there is a 

wide interval, and between dethroning a prince and punishing 

him there is another very wide hiterval We stand astonished, 

that, among a civilized people, so much virtue [as was possessed by 
Charles] could ever meet with so fatal a catastrophe." 

To this weighty reasoning something must be added (and it is not 
added by the historian), or the discussion of this subject will surely 
be left most materially imperfect. Government is, no doubt, insti- 



THE CIVIL WAR. 275 

tuted for the restraint of the people, but it is also instituted for the 
promotion of their happiness ; and while obedience is the duty that 
should be inculcated on the people, resistance is the doctrine that 
should be ever present to the rulers. There may be intervals be- 
tween resisting, dethroning, and executing a sovereign, and the last 
may be an extremity which ought never to be supposed possible ; but 
there is a wide interval, in Hke manner, between rational obedience 
and servile submission ; and though rational obedience be necessary 
to all human society, servile submission is inconsistent with all its 
purposes and enjoyments. No people can long be happy that do not 
reverence authority ; but no governors will long do their duty who 
do not respect the public. 

" Obedience," says Mr. Hume, " is the doctrine to be alone incul- 
cated ; nor is there any danger that mankind should degenerate into 
a state of servitude : when the exception occurs, it will overpower 
the restraint imposed by the general doctrine." But is no resistance 
to begin till such extremes of oppression arise as create an exception 
to all general rules ? If such is to be the nature of resistance and 
obedience, as Mr. Hume seems to suppose, it will then be found, that 
resistance, Avhen it does come, has come too late, — it will then be 
found that the people can seldom resist their governors without fatal- 
ly injuring themselves. 

This, therefore, is neither the resistance nor the obedience that is 
wanted, and something very diflferent from either must be generated 
by some means or other in a community, or the great political prob- 
lem of the public happiness and security is neither solved, nor its so- 
lution in any reasonable degree even approached. It can be solved 
only by one expedient. Some power of criticism must be given to 
the people upon the conduct of their rulers, — must be introduced 
into the political system, to be so reasonably and yet so constantly 
exercised, that it shall be respected in time by those rulers, and be 
so taken into their account, while they are forming their measures, 
that it shall always have an effective tendency to render their pro- 
ceedings sufficiently agreeable to the public good. Some power of 
criticism like this, if by any machinery of government, by represent- 
ative assemblies for instance, it can be made to exist, can never 
exist without being a cause of the most complete improvement and 
advantage to both parties, — to those who are to command, and to 
those who are to obey. The constitution of a country, therefore, is 
good exactly in proportion as it supplies this power of peaceable, yet 
operative, criticism ; it cannot be good without it ; and the reasons 
for civil obedience are so many and so powerful, that the rulers of 
mankind are always secure in their honors and their situation while 
they administer the high office which they bear with any tolerable 
portion of wisdom and integrity. 

The character of Charles has been drawn by the first masters, and 



276 LECTURE XVI. 

may now be considered as sufficiently understood. The truth is, that 
his situation at successive periods of his reign was so different, that 
we view him with sentiments the most different, though his character 
was always intrinsically the same. He is no object of our affection 
and respect, but of reprehension, and almost of contempt, while we 
observe him in the early part of his life, though a prince destined for 
empire, finding the friend of his bosom in Buckingham, the unwor- 
thy favorite of his father, without capacity as a minister, or virtue as 
a man. 

For the first few years after his accession, his conduct is fitted 
to create in us only very warm disapprobation, strong dislike of his 
measures, and suspicion of his intentions. Afterwards, from the 
year 1629 to 1640, while endeavouring to rule without Parliaments, 
he appears before us in no other light but in that of a prince of 
narrow mind and arbitrary nature ; incapable of respecting the civil 
and religious liberties of his country ; hurrying on to the destruction 
of them ; and the proper object of our unequivocal hatred and indig- 
nation. 

These emotions, however, gradually subside, soon after the meet- 
ing of the Long Parliament, as he gradually relinquishes, though by 
compulsion, the dangerous prerogatives he had attempted to estab- 
lish. But when a still further change of situation takes place, and 
when the Parliament, in its turn, becomes unreasonable and bigoted, 
his offences are forgotten, for he ceases to be the offender ; and as 
we begin to dislike the Parliament, he is necessarily considered, first 
with complacency, and then with favor. 

But yet another change, still more affecting, is to be witnessed ; 
and we do not deny him, we willingly offer him, our esteem, when we 
survey him at last supporting with firmness and courage in the field 
the honor of his crown against men whom it was impossible to satisfy 
by any fair concessions in the cabinet. Once more are our senti- 
ments altered ; and this esteem is softened into kindness when his 
fortunes lower, when the battle of Naseby is lost, and when the 
sword which he has dra^wTi in vain must be at last thrown down and 
abandoned. 

But scenes still more gloomy and affecting are to be opened. He 
is to be a monarch " fallen from his high estate " ; he is to fly he 
knows not whither ; to try expedients without hope, and plans with- 
out a meaning ; to negotiate with his conquerors ; to be called upon 
to proscribe his friends, and to stigmatize his own cause ; to be re- 
quired by formal treaty, and in the face of the world and of poster- 
ity, to bfe his own accuser, — his own accuser, and the accuser of 
every thing he holds venerable and dear ; to be passed from prison to 
prison, and from enemy to enemy. We are to see him solitary and 
friendless ; his " gray discrowned head," with none to reverence it ; 
and, alone and unprotected, left to expostulate with enthusiasts, no 



THE CIVIL WAR. 277 

longer within the reach of tlie common workings of our nature, or 
with ferocious soldiers, who call aloud, they know not why, for jus- 
tice and execution, arraign him before a court of their own formation, 
and proclaim him a traitor to his country and the murderer of his 
people ! 

With what sentiments are we now to behold him ? Witli our 
former suspicions and dislike, indignation and terror ? Is it Charles 
that is before us, — the friend of Buckingham, — the patron of 
Laud, — the opponent of Hampden, — the corrupter, the encour- 
agcr, the deserter of Straiford, — the dissolver of Parliaments, — the 
imposer of liturgies, — the violator of privileges ? These are im- 
ages of the past no longer to be recalled ; these are characters of 
offence with which he has now no concern. It is the monarch unsub- 
dued by adversity, — it is the hero unappalled by death, — it is the 
Christian sublimed by piety and hope, — it is these that occupy our 
imagination and our memory. It is the tribunal of violence, it is 
the scaffold of blood, that banish from our minds all indignation but 
against his destroyers, all terrors but of the licentiousness of the peo- 
ple, — that render all regular estimation of his character odious and 
impossible, and that leave nothing in the heart of the generous and 
humane but compassion for his misfortunes and revei'ence for his vir- 
tues. 

Sentiments like these, so natural at any period, so powerful at the 
time as to have produced almost his deification, it is not the province 
of true philosophy to destroy, but rather to temper and enligliten. 
It is turning history to no adequate purpose, if we do not accept the 
instruction which it offers. The hves and actions of men have been 
in vain exhibited to our view, if we make not our moral criticisms, 
even when to make them is a task painful and repulsive to our nature. 
The early part of the reign of Charles must be remembered, as well 
as the close, — the obscure as well as the brighter parts of his im- 
perfect character. His faults should be studied, that there never 
may again be a necessity for the display of his virtues. Those 
faults were the faults of all those sovereigns who, though men of 
principle, have involved themselves and their covxntry in calamities. 
Such sovereigns have always wanted, as did Charles, that simplicity 
and steadiness which could afford good men the means of understand- 
ing and depending upon their conduct, — that enlightened benevo- 
lence Avhich could make them think more of their people than of 
themselves, — that magnanimity which might enable them to call to 
their councils statesmen who would announce to them the real senti- 
ments of the community, not echo and confirm their own, — and 
lastly, and above all, that political sagacity which could discern the 
signs of the times, the new opinions that had arisen, and which could 
draw forth, with equal wisdom and benevolence, such principles of 
improvement as the constitution of the country contained, and adapt- 

X 



278 LECTURE XVI. 

ing them, according to the justice of the case, ere it was too late, to 
the ever-shifting scene before them, save the state and themselves 
alike from the fury of the passions of the people and the treachery 
of their own. 

At the conclusion of these remarks on the contest between Charles 
and his Parliaments, it may not be amiss to observe that there are 
two mistakes which are continually made, though it is not very intel- 
ligible how they can be made by those who are at all acquainted with 
the history of these times. First, the execution of Charles is always 
reasoned upon as if it had received the sanction of a regular Parha- 
ment, as if it had been a great national act ; but nothing can be far- 
ther from the truth. On the 4th of the preceding December, (the 
king was executed on the 30th of January,) there were present in 
the House, as Mr. Prynne informs us, three hundred and forty mem- 
bers. Two days after, Cromwell and his soldiers expelled nearly a 
hundred and imprisoned nearly fifty, so that the next day, such was 
the general terror, only seventy-three met, and after that day never 
more than fifty-three. It was by this inconsiderable part of a House, 
to which more than five hundred members originally belonged, that 
all the outrageous proceedings against the king and the constitution 
of the country were resolved upon, and never more than fifty-three 
members could be collected. Not more than forty members of the 
House signed the death-warrant of Charles. Only fifty-eight com- 
missioners could be brought to sign it, out of a court consisting of 
about one hundred and fifty. Of these one hundred and fifty, not 
more than seventy could ever be brought to sit, though recourse was 
had to the officers of the army, and though the country had been for 
five years inured to all the disorders of a civil war, and to the influ- 
ence of every passion and every principle of civil and religious hate 
that can render men barbarous and unjust ; only seventy could be 
found capable of acting. In the House of Lords, not a single peer 
could be found to countenance these proceedings of the soldiery ; and 
the assembly expired with their sovereign. 

The second mistake which has been made with respect to these ex- 
traordinary times is more excusable. The Presbyterians have always 
been accused as the destroyers of the monarchy. This is not accu- 
rate. The Long Parhament originally consisted of five hundred and 
thirty-four members ; one hundred and seventy-five of them (Hyde 
one of them) left the House, and repaired to the king at Oxford. 
On the whole, in the progress of the dispute, two hundred out of the 
original five hundred and thirty-four were disabled, and new writs 
issued. Those that remained must, therefore, have been all Presby- 
terians and Independents, almost to a man. 

Now, from all the speeches and proceedings and memoirs of the 
times, it appears, that these two parties continued in the House al- 
most to the last, and that the former at least, the Presbyterians, 



THE CIVIL WAR. 279 

though they were resolved to have the Episcopal form of church gov- 
ernment altered, never had the least intention of abolishing the mon- 
archy. A king limited by law, and a church without bishops, these 
were their objects, and no other. More than half a year before the 
execution of the king, the leading Presbyterian members of the 
House, eleven in number, the famous Holies at their head, men that 
had been the most distinguished through the whole of the contest, 
were impeached, and, in fact, driven from the House by the menaces 
of the soldiery and the Independent party. They had been found in 
the way, Avhcn designs of violence and usurpation began to be enter- 
tained. The speech of Prynne, to which I have alluded, delivered 
only two months before the execution of the king, shows clearly what 
were the sentiments of the Presbyterians to the last. He was one 
of them. 

In Scotland, a large party of the Presbyterians appeared in arms, 
and resolved to march into England against the army, in defence of 
the Parliament and the royal cause. If the king could have sub- 
scribed the Covenant, the whole of that part of the island would have 
imited in his favor. 

The IMemoirs of Holies are very decisive on this point, particularly 
at the close. They are worth reading, are not long, and strongly 
paint the rage and disappointment of a man of ability and principle, 
at seeing his party (the Presbyterian party) overpowered by men of 
hypocrisy and blood, like Cromwell and his associates, and the labors 
of his o^mi hfe thus ending in total despair. It is in this book that 
there is the remarkable charge brought against Cromwell of coward- 
ice. Holies was one of the members who had forcibly held the 
Speaker in the chair in the year 1628 ; and, in 1641, was one of the 
five members whom the king had meant to arrest, when he so unhap- 
pily entered the House for the purpose. 

Even Walker, in his History of Independency, though indulging 
himself in the most unlimited censures of both parties as to money 
concerns, speaks of the Independents (page 200, part ii.) as men 
who " carried on the war against the king with an intent, from the be- 
ginning, to pull down monarchy and set up anarchy ; notivitlistand- 
ing,''^ continues he, " the many declarations, remonstrances, abortive 
treaties, protestations, and covenants to the contrary, which were obli- 
gations from time to time extorted from them by the Presbyterians." 

The accusation, therefore, of the Presbyterians seems to be, not 
that they intended to overthrow the monarchy, but that they commit- 
ted political mistakes which enabled others to do so. Their fault 
seems rather to have been of a religious nature, — their teri'or of 
Popery, their hatred of bishops, their religious intolerance, carried, 
indeed, to a most senseless and disgusting excess. Much of this 
blame must, however, be shared by the king himself ; and if his in- 
tolerance was more pardonable, because Episcopacy was already 



280 LECTURE XVI. 

established, and because his rehgious persuasions were not debased 
by cant and grimace, and were of a more hberal and sober nature, 
still his political mistakes were far greater than those of the Presby- 
terians, and both his rehgious and political mistakes (which is a most 
important point) were prior in order of time. 

The most violent phiUppics that ever appeared against this party 
may be found in the Prose Works of Milton. The invectives of this 
great poet against prelates and Presbyterians will perfectly astonish 
those who as yet are conversant only with his immortal work, his 
descriptions of the Garden of Eden, and the piety and innocence of 
our first parents. 

This period of the Civil Wars — the most interesting in our his- 
tory — has given occasion to so many pvibhcations, that there is some 
danger lest the student should be overwhelmed by the extent and 
variety of his materials. In Rushworth he will find an inexhaustible 
collection of important documents. These should be consulted, and 
compared with the collection of Nalson, who professes to correct his 
faults. The Works of King Charles, pubhshed by Royston, should 
be looked at, particularly the king's letters taken at Naseby. When 
any doubt is entertained of the conduct of Charles, Mrs. Macaulay 
may be referred to, and a charge against him, if it can possibly be 
made out, will assuredly be found, and supported with all the refer- 
ences that the most animated diligence can supply. These may be 
compared with the representations of Clarendon and his defenders. 
A general summary of the particulars of this reign, not very favorable 
to the king, will be found in Harris's Life of Charles the First. Har- 
ris fortifies the positions in his text, like Bayle, by copious notes, 
which will, at least, bring the subject, and all the learning that be- 
longs to it, in full review before the reader. There is a History of 
the Long Parliament, by May, which is not without its value, though, 
from the shortness of the period which it embraces, and the cold and 
general manner in which it is written, it will disappoint the reader, 
who might naturally expect much more curious matter from one who 
was secretary to the House, and wrote from the midst of such unpre- 
cedented scenes. Clarendon is always interesting, and continually 
provides materials for the statesman and the philosopher. He is par- 
tial, no doubt ; but, as it has been well observed by Lord Grenville, 
in his preface to the late Lord Chatham's Letters (a preface which 
is worth reading, even with a reference to our present subject), the 
partiality of one who means to tell the truth will always be distinguish- 
able from his who means to deceive. The Memoirs of Holies I have 
already mentioned ; and the History of Independency, by Walker, 
should be looked into. But books like these last two cannot be at all 
understood, unless a knowledge of the history has previously been 
obtained. Whitelocke's journal is a collection of facts, with occa- 
sional disquisitions, very short and very few, but always very inter- 



THE CIVIL WAR. 281 

estinf^ and important. It must, by all means, be looked over in con- 
junction with the more regular narrative of other historians. 

On the whole, with regard to books, I may say, that the Parlia- 
mentary History, or Cobbett's edition of it, should form the ground- 
work of the student's perusal ; and that this, with the explanations 
and comments of Hume and Clarendon on the one side, and Millar 
and Rapin on the other, will leave him little further to seek, if he 
will but sufficiently meditate on the materials thus supplied to his re- 
flections. Rapin is always full and valuable, and a sort of substitute 
in the absence of all other writers. 

Finally, I must remind you that I have already mentioned the 
great work of Mr. Hallam and the very important Memoirs of Charles 
the First by Miss Aikin. These lectures were written many years 
ago, but I have thus been enabled, I hope, the better to estimate the 
interest and value of these late publications. 

When the king had perished on the scaffold, the Independents and 
the army alone remained to triumph. All other parties — the Roy- 
alists and moderate patriots with Lord Falkland and Hyde, the 
Presbyterians with Holies — had been swept away from tlie field. 
We are now, therefore, to observe what was the conduct of the Inde- 
pendents, and what of Cromwell and the army. 

Those of the Independents who were not mere wild or drivelling 
fanatics were Republicans, like Ludlow and Hutchinson ; and it was 
now their business to establish their Commonwealth. Hume accuses 
them of wanting that deep thought and those comprehensive views 
which might qualify them for acting the part of legislators. This 
may be true. But it seems impossible, even at this distance of time, 
to propose any system of conduct which could have enabled them to 
carry their political theories into execution. They were now, at last, 
themselves to pay the penalty of all their violence and enthusiasm. 

The great difficulty which the Presbyterians had not been able to 
overcome remained, — the army, — a difficulty now equally invinci- 
ble to the Republicans. A general like Cromwell, and men like his 
soldiers, were not likely to acquiesce in any system of government 
which materially abridged their power ; and unless their power was 
abridged, there could be no peace or security for the subject, under 
any form of government, monarchical or republican. 

The Republicans were themselves only the last residue of the Long 
Parliament ; the sole expedient, therefore, that offered, was the disso- 
lution of this remaining garbled part, and the calling of a new one, 
fully and regularly chosen. Such a Parliament might have been 
considered as a fair indication of the public will. But this could 
not be attempted for some time, after so enormous an act of violence 
as the king's execution ; and whenever attempted, it must have ap- 
peared to the Republicans a measure very doubtful in its success, 
and likely to fill the House with a large majority of concealed 



282 LECTURE XVI. 

Royalists and exasperated Presbyterians, neither of whom would have 
tolerated the Independents or the Republic ; they therefore tempo- 
rized, and waited to avail themselves of the chance of events. 

But this conduct, though natural, was, after all, neither just nor 
prudent. It was not just ; for, if the political opinions of the nation 
were against their Republic, they had no right to endeavour to 
establish it, whether by force or by contrivance. It was not pru- 
dent ; for Cromwell had already shown himself to be a far greater 
master of the art of managing events than they could possibly be ; 
and none but the most contemptible enthusiasts could now be ignorant 
that his hypocrisy was unceasing, his influence with the army un- 
bounded, and his views ambitious. The only possible mode, there- 
fore, of controlling his conduct, or favorably influencing his designs, 
was the summoning of a regular Parliament, which might attract the 
respect of every man of principle in the army and in the kingdom. 

It is true that even this measure might not have answered to the 
views of the Repubhcans, but it was their only chance. To remain 
as they were, the last remnant that military violence had spared, and 
therefore respected by no party, — to remain, ready to be over- 
thrown at the first difference that arose between themselves and the 
army, was certain destruction. In this state, however, the Parlior 
ment did remain during the first year of their administration, — 
1648. 

In 1649, Cromwell and the army were employed in Ireland ; in 
1650, against the Scotch Presbyterians, who had made a very inju- 
dicious attempt to restore royalty, or rather the Covenant and royalty, 
and had persuaded the young king (afterwards Charles the Second) 
to commit himself, very thoughtlessly, to the disposal of their intol- 
erance and fanaticism. In both these campaigns Cromwell and the 
army were victorious. In 1651, the young king was defeated at 
Worcester. This defeat of his enemy was what Cromwell declared 
to be " the last crowning mercy of the Lord " ; that is, it was the 
finishing step to his own power, and the cause of the Repubhcans was 
now more than ever hopeless. 

They seem to have had an opportunity in 1649, when Crom- 
well was in Ireland, to make some effort for the establishment of 
their civil authority, but they lost it. In the mean time, petitions 
with respect to the settlement of the nation were continually pre- 
sented to them. Instead of attending, however, to the public expec- 
tations and the duties of their situation, they contented themselves 
with returning, like other unwise governments, sometimes menaces, 
punishments, and statutes of high treason, sometimes plausible an- 
swers to gain time, and occasionally debating the question of their 
dissolution and of a new representation ; but, on the whole, coming 
to no decision on the subject, while it was their best pohcy to do so. 
When at last they did come to a vote, in November, 1651, after the 



CROMWELL. 283 

powci' of Cromwell was finally established, their resolution was only, 
that thej would dissolve themselves three years afterwards, in 1654, 
— a resolution that could satisfy no one, but much the contrary. 

They had, therefore, not chosen to make a common cause with the 
public, and being thus without support from within and from without, 
Cromwell took a few soldiers with him, expelled them from the House, 
and locked up the doors of it, as soon as he found them an encum- 
brance to his ambition. He first, indeed, acquainted them, " that 
the Lord had done with them." The public, who never favor those 
who have no visible merits to produce, still less those who have 
seemed attentive chiefly to their OAvn selfish interests, saw this new 
act of military violence with indifference, and probably Avith pleasure. 

Certainly, these Republicans, after a trial of three years, had en- 
tirely failed as politicians, and had established no Republic, But 
they had great merits in endeavouring to introduce improvements 
into the law. The laudable efforts of the Long Parliament on this 
subject have never been properly acknowledged. The state of all 
the real landed property of this kingdom is, at this moment, materi- 
ally influenced by the happy eftect of their legislative provisions ; and 
those men of property who inquire will find that their estates have 
been as much indebted as themselves to these Parliamentary leaders 
for any freedom that belongs to them ; both the one and the other 
were emancipated from feudal manacles. 

Cromwell now alone remained, supreme and unresisted ; and thus 
at length terminated, in the usurpation of a military chief, the origi- 
nal struggle between the king and Parliament. And this, as I have 
already announced at the beginning of tliis lecture, has always been 
considered as the necessary issue of any successful appeal to arms 
on the part of the people, — a position to which I do not indiscrim- 
inately assent, and on which I shall, therefore, offer some observa- 
tions in my next lecture. 



LECTURE XVII. 



CROMWELL. — MONK. — THE REGICIDES, etc. 

Towards the conclusion of my last lecture, we had arrived at the 
usurpation of Cromwell ; and this usurpation of a military cliief, I 
then observed, has always been considered as the natural issue of 
any successful appeal to arms on the part of the people. 



284 LECTURE XVII. 

This position, it appears to me, has always been laid down too 
broadly and indiscriminately. The question seems to admit of a dis- 
tinction, and it is this : — If a people have been long subject to all 
the evils of an arbitrary government, and at last break out into insur- 
rection, it is to be expected, no doubt, that the last favorite of the 
army, who survives the contest, will gradually procure for himself 
the power which the former sovereigns had abused and lost. There 
is no material shock here given to those habits of thinking and feel- 
ing which, notwithstanding all the intermediate troubles, must still 
form the genuine character of the great body of the nation. But 
the case is materially altered, if Ave suppose a people before possessed 
of constitutional rights, and endeavouring to defend or enlarge them, 
in opposition to those who would limit or destroy them. Here the 
event, if the popular party succeed, seems more naturally to be the 
ultimate strengthening and enlarging of the prior constitutional priv- 
ileges, under some form of government similar to the former one. In 
this case, a usurpation is either not attempted, as in the instances of 
Switzerland and Holland, and, in our own times, of America, or, if 
attempted, the usurper finds himself impeded with such political diffi- 
culties, at every movement which he makes, that the continuance of 
his power is always a matter of uncertainty ; and the original and 
irremediable disposition of the people, the result of their former bet- 
ter government, is sure at last to prevail, either over himself, or over 
his successors. 

In illustration of this general reasoning may be cited the difficulties 
which Cromwell had to overcome, while he was endeavouring to 
seize the power of the state, and still more while he was laboring to 
retain it. I will give a general representation of them. Together 
they form a strong testimony to the permanent nature of the English 
mixed constitution, particularly of the monarchical part of it ; and 
they go far to prove that the usurpation of Cromwell was not, as has 
been generally supposed, a successful one. 

These are the principal topics of reflection to wliich I would at 
present wish to excite your attention. Hume and Millar, and the 
regular historians and writers, will supply you with many others, 

Cromwell had to subdue, not only the Royalists, but the Presbyte- 
rians ; and this, not merely by force, but by the most extraordinary 
performances of cant and hypocrisy that human nature ever yet ex- 
hibited. But why ? Because these descriptions of men bore fresh 
upon their minds the impression of the constitution of England, and 
were only solicitous, according to the best of their judgment, to sup- 
port or improve that constitution. By the same arts and means Avere 
the Independents, the Republicans, to be overpowered by the usurp- 
er, and for the same reason. They, too, were impressed with the 
original stamp which had been received from the popular part of 
this constitution ; and they had deviated from it only because they 



CROMWELL. 285 

thought that the monarchical part had been found, from trial, incom- 
patible with the interests of the country. That a military usurper, 
that any single person, should rule was not in the contemplation or 
wishes, probably, of any one disinterested Englishman at the time. 

And it is here that may be found the great proof of the talents of 
Cromwell, which is not only, as Mr. Hume states, that he could rise 
from a private station to a high authority in the army, but still more, 
that he could afterwards bend the refractory spirits and direct the 
disordered understandings of all around him to the purposes of his 
own ambition, to the elevation of himself to the Protectorate, in vio- 
lation of all his former professions and protestations, public and pri- 
vate, and m defiance of all the men of principle and intrepidity who 
had been so long his associates and friends in the Parliament and in 
the army. 

The gross and ignorant soldiers might. Indeed, be well content that 
he who gave them pay and plunder should have every thing to dis- 
pose of; and in their idolatry of a successful general, they might, for 
a time, forget their country, and those forms of established authority 
to which they had once been accustomed. But still, it was these 
coarse and brute instruments upon which Cromwell could alone de- 
pend ; and, after all, as the mass of an army must always be man- 
aged through the medium of its officers, it was here, in this manage- 
ment of the officers, that his extraordinary powers were exhibited in 
a maimer so striking. Some he could make his creatures by mere 
bribery, by lucrative posts and expectations ; but the rest, and not 
unfrcquently many of the common soldiers themselves, he was obliged 
to cajole by every art and labor of hypocrisy, — to surround and be- 
wilder them with a tempest of fanaticism, of sighs and prayers, of 
groans and ejaculations, — in short, to elevate and involve his heroes 
and himself in a cloud, till he was able there to leave them, and him- 
self to descend and take undisturbed possession of the earth. 

Whoever reads the history of these times cannot well believe that 
this military usurper, daring and powerful as his abilities were, both 
in the cabinet and in the field, could possibly have succeeded, if the 
religious principle had not unfortunately found its way into every 
part of the dispute between the king and his people, and so disturbed 
the natui-al tendency of things, as to render any achievement practi- 
cable, which could well be conceived by a man of military skill and 
fanaticism united. But observe his progress. 

When the young king had been finally defeated at Worcester, 
when the Republicans had been turned out of the House of Com- 
mons, when Cromwell, with his council of officers, was left alone on 
the stage, and when it would generally be said that the natural ter- 
mination of the contest had arrived and Cromwell had now only to 
enjoy what he had acquired, his difficulties, on the contrary, seemed 
rather to multiply than to cease. Cromwell, though triumphant, and 



286 LECTURE XVII. 

without a rival, could never be at ease, and he was continually labor- 
ing to make his government approach, as much as possible, to the 
model of the old one, and to those forms which he knew could alone 
be considered as legitimate. He was now himself precisely in the 
situation in which the Independents, the Republicans, had lately 
been. He, like them, durst not appeal to a full and fair representa- 
tion of the people, yet it was necessary to have a Parliament ; he 
could not otherwise color his usurpation ; he therefore proceeded to 
manufacture one with all expedition. 

But as he had violated the feelings and opinions of every man of 
principle and consideration, he could trust no one who possessed 
much of either ; and his Parliament contained, though with a mixture 
of others of a superior class, men of low condition and foolish fanati- 
cism. The Parliament which he collected and made was the Parlia- 
ment known by the ludicrous appellations which were gravely as- 
sumed by many of its members, — " Praise God Barebones," &c., &c. 
These creatures he seems to have let loose upon the courts of law, 
probably for the sake of terrifying the lawyers. Courts of law are 
never very popular with the vulgar, and therefore senators like these 
soon proceeded to the attack of the Court of Chancery, nem. con. 
If you look into Cobbett, their language will amuse you. They 
showed a rapidity of movement which must have appeared not a little 
marvellous to the court itself; certainly the court could not have 
been taught to comprehend it from any experience in its own pro- 
ceedings. But a Parliament of this kind, so little fitted to be a part 
of an English government, was found by Cromwell, after a few 
months' trial, unfit to answer his purposes ; so their power was partly 
resigned, and partly taken from them, and they returned to their 
more natural occupations in private life. 

Still, a Parliament and a constitutional government of some kind 
or other were necessary. Cromwell, therefore, and his council of 
officers drew up an instrument of government, spread the power of 
representation over the whole of England and Wales very fairly, and 
began again. Even in this instrument it is observable that the su- 
preme legislative authority is made to reside in one person and in the 
people assembled in Parliament, — that is, in a king and House of 
Commons, — and that the provisions are far more unfavorable to the 
executive power than those in the English constitution, with one ex- 
ception. This exception is contained in those articles on which, no 
doubt, Cromwell depended for his own protection, the twenty-seventh 
and three following. These provided for the maintenance of a stand- 
ing military force of ten thousand horse and twenty thousand foot. 
The powers, however, that were given to the Parliament might soon 
have been converted to the destruction of any Protector who was not 
a favorite with the army. — Three hundred members assembled, and 
Cromwell was soon obliged, on account of the freedom of their do- 



CROMWELL. 287 

bates, to make them a long harangue, and to declare, that, " after 
seeking counsel from God, he must prescribe to them a test to sign." 
The debates still continued disagreeable to him. At length, after 
the manner of the very king whom he had dethroned, he dissolved 
them. 

After an interval of two years and a half,* he still thought it ex- 
pedient to call once more a Parliament, — the third ; and every ef- 
fort was made to pack together an assembly devoted to his designs ; 
but all in vain. He had to deny particular members admittance, was 
resisted by a large portion of the House, assailed by a spirited re- 
monstrance, and felt in his turn, like his misguided master, that it is 
in vain to expect sufficient countenance to illegal proceedings from 
any tolerable representation of the people of England. 

Still anxious and dissatisfied, still desirous to rest his authority 
u])on some established principle, he meditated the assumption of the 
title of King. He got the affair put in motion in the House. The 
lawyers told him, and probably with great sincerity, that this title of 
King (to use their own words) was a wheel upon which the whole 
body of the law was carried ; that it stood not on the top, but ran 
through the whole veins and life of the law ; that the nation had ever 
been a lover of monarchy, and of monarchy under the title of King ; 
that, in short, this title of King was the title of the supreme magis- 
trate, Avliich the law could take notice of, and no other. Cromwell 
desired time to " seek God for counsel " ; that is, he wished to know 
the opinions of the army ; and while he was ascertaining them, he 
hesitated from day to day, and renewed from day to day his long 
replies, — replies which gave no answer, and were full of broken 
sentences, interrupted conclusions, doubts and insinuations, perplexity 
and more than Egyptian darkness ; but, having at length satisfied 
himself that the measure was disagreeable to his army, his elocution 
cleared up in an instant, and nothing can be more distinct than his 
short final speech, " that he could not vmdertake the government with 
the title of King." 

Legitimate authority, or even the appearance of it, was now im- 
possible ; a new settlement of the government was therefore adjusted, 
under the form of a Petition and Advice, in its articles still very favor- 
able to the liberties of the subject, but with the same matex-ial excep- 
tion of the grant of a revenue to maintain the army of the executive 
power. Cromwell was to be solemnly inaugurated Protector ; a 
second house was to be added to the House of Commons ; Lords 
were to be called to it by Cromwell ; — that is, the form of govern- 
ment was thus made still more and more to approach to the model of 
the original constitution. 

* Only one year and a half. Cromwell's .second Parliament was dissolved January 
22, 1654-5, anil tliis third Parliament was called July 10, 1656. See Cobbctt's Parlia- 
mentary History, Vol. iii. col. 1460, 1478. — N. 



288 LECTURE XVII. 

Cromwell, however, was still overpowered with impossibilities. 
The few real peers that he summoned to his upper house, with one 
base exception (Lord Eure), forbore to take their places; the Com- 
mons relished not their title and questioned their authority ; and the 
Protector, enraged at their impracticable behaviour, dissolved them. 
This was the last experiment in the way of a Parliament that he 
made ; having dissolved the assembly in February, he died in Sep- 
tember. 

Now this, after all, is not a specimen of successful usurpation. 
He maintained his power for five years, but it seems very doubtful 
whether he could have done it much longer ; his friend Monk thought 
not. His power still continued to be, as it began, merely that of the 
sword ; no appearance of legitimate rule could be contrived for him ; 
there was no principle existing in the English constitution which he 
could work up to accomplish his designs ; there was no train of habits 
in the minds of the people of England which could afford him any 
foundation on which to build authority for himself. He was not as- 
sassinated, but he hved in continual apprehensions of it ; he was not 
hurled from the government by his soldiers, but it was the labor of 
his life to prevent it. Abroad was the young king ; at home were 
the Royalists, the Presbyterians, the Republicans, and enthusiasts 
of every description, the most insane and dangerous, most of whom 
he had in turn deceived, and therefore exasperated. Even in the 
bosom of his family, the great questions of religion and politics had 
interfered to disturb his peace. And his example seems to show, as 
far as the example of so extraordinary a character in times so ex- 
traordinary can afford any general conclusion on such points, that, 
amid a people whose constitution has been free, a brave and able 
man may sometimes seize upon the chief executive power, and even 
possess it for some time, but that he will be able neither to enjoy it, 
nor to engraft it upon the former constitution of the kingdom ; that 
he will not be able to introduce a new line of arbitrary sovereigns, — 
himself the first ; and, on the whole, that, in public as well as private, 
success, as it is called, will be for ever fatal to all ideas that even an 
ambitious man can entertain of happiness and repose. 

If this reasoning be just, (and the facts at least I have not mis- 
stated,) the conclusion is, — first, a strong testimony to the perma- 
nency of the monarchical part of our constitution, arising from the 
steadiness and intelligence of the English character ; and again, that, 
when freedom has been at all enjoyed in any country, (for this is the 
supposition,) resistance to arbitrary encroachments is not necessarily 
followed, even if a revolution is to be endured, by any military usur- 
pation that will be ultimately successful. 

Cromwell, I must contend, did not succeed ; he could not become 
the peaceful and acknowledged sovereign of his country. He did, 
however, what alone it was in his power to do. He was a good dis- 



CROMWELL. 289 

cerner of character, and he therefore selected lawyers of ability from 
the profession, and persuaded them to administer to the people, 
though he might sometimes disregard them himself, the known laws 
of the country ; he employed officers of courage and capacity by 
land and sea ; he wielded with effect the formidable energies of a 
people that had been lately and might still be considered as in a state 
of revolution ; and, like other usurpers, he endeavoured to hide in a 
blaze of glory a throne that was defiled with blood. 

To understand the conduct of Cromwell and the Republicans, not 
only must the Memoirs of Holies be read, but those of Ludlow. Lud- 
loAv's work becomes very important after the account of the battle of 
Naseby. There is also a book which has been lately published, the 
Life of Colonel Hutchinson, printed from a manuscript account 
drawn up by his widow, a woman of singular merit, — who, if her 
political opinions (the opinions of her husband) be forgiven her, will 
appear without a blemish, will be thought to have united the opposite 
virtues of the sexes, and to have been alike fitted to give a charm to 
existence amid the tranquillity of domestic life, and in an hour of 
trial to add enterprise and strength to the courage of a hero. Both 
of these memoirs (those of Ludlow and of Colonel Hutchinson) are 
original works, and as those parts that relate to military concerns 
may be slightly glanced over, they will be found neither long nor 
tedious, and they ought, in this manner, by all means to be carefully 
read. Mrs. Hutchinson is often a painter of manners as minute and 
far more forcible than even Clarendon. 

It is evident from these different memoirs that the character of 
Cromwell was seen through, hj the intelligent men of every descrip- 
tion of opinion, — not only by Holies, the Presbyterian, but by the 
Republicans Ludlow and Hutchinson. It appears, too, that Cromwell 
himself was unremittingly employed in ascertaining the views and 
character of every one around him ; that his whole life was a con- 
stant train, not only of political hypocrisy, but of poUtical specula- 
tion and enterprise. As specimens of his manner, Ludlow may be 
consulted at pages 79, 105, 135, in the quarto edition, and Hutchin- 
son, 287, 309, 340 ; here will be found dialogues that passed between 
these men and Cromwell ; and no doubt he sounded all the principal 
men near him as opportunity offered, and those of inferior rank and 
intelligence in ways far more curious than those that are here record- 
ed or can now be known. 

These works are also both of them very interesting, as exhibiting 
to us those views of this important contest, in all its different stages, 
which were entertained by such of the Republicans as were men of 
regular sense and clear honesty. The rapid, unceremonious manner 
in which Ludlow, from the first, arrives at his conclusions, as well as 
Mrs. Hutchinson, and their reasonings and views of the contest, 
should be considered, not only in contrast with those of the King's 
37 Y 



290 LECTURE XVII. 

State Papers, but in comparison witli the suggestions of the reader's 
own mind. It may be useful to observe the manner in which men 
of good understandings and good intentions may reach very opposite 
extremes of opinion, though exercising their judgments upon the 
same materials. Habits of candor and patient investigation may thus 
be introduced, and the character, on the whole, improved and hu- 
manized. 

Is it not curious, for instance, to observe that Hutchinson applied 
himself, before the breaking out of the Civil War, as his wife relates, 
(I quote page 78,) " to understand the things then in dispute, and 
read all the public papers that came forth between the king and Par- 
liament, besides many other private treatises, both concerning the 
present and foregoing times, whereby he became abundantly informed 
in his understanding, and convinced in conscience, of the righteous- 
ness of the Parliament's cause, in point of civil right " ? And, 
again, is it not affecting to perceive, that, before he signed the fatal 
warrant for the execution of the king, " he addressed himself to God 
by prayer, desiring the Lord, that, if, through any human frailty, he 
were led into any error or false opinion in these great transactions, 
He would open his eyes, and not suffer him to proceed, but that He 
would confirm his spirit in the truth, and lead him by a right enlight- 
ened conscience ; and finding no check, but a confirmation in his 
conscience that it was his duty to act as he did, he, upon serious de- 
bate, both privately and in his addresses to God, and in conferences 
with conscientious, upright, unbiased persons, proceeded to sign the 
sentence against the king " ? 

Many other curious particulars may be drawn from this work : 
that the king, for instance, sent forth commissions for array, and the 
Parliament gave out commissions for their militia, so as " in many 
places there were fierce contests and disputes, almost to blood, even 
at the first" (page 95) ; that all the nobility, gentry, and their de- 
pendents were generally for the king, while " most of the middle 
sort, the able, substantial freeholders, and the other commons who 
had not their dependence upon the malignant nobility and gentry, 
adhered to the Parliament." And from page 344, and other places, 
we may conclude that the Puritans were not always men of minds 
disordered by religious zeal and debased by vulgar cant and enthusi- 
asm ; but, when men of consideration, like Colonel Hutchinson, were 
very fair models of the English country gentleman, such as the char- 
acter appears under its best aspect, men properly interested in the 
civil and religious liberties of their country, accomplished and well 
informed according to the notions of their age, active in the duties 
of the neighbourhood and county, pious, hospitable, and domestic. 

It must be observed that this manuscript of Mrs. Hutchinson can 
be valuable only to those who have already acquainted themselves 
with the English history. They can thus only be enabled to derive 



CROMWELL. 291 

full benefit from her short, rapid, forcible summaries and statements 
of the circumstances and characters that pass in review before her. 
Her comment extends from the time of Henry the Eighth to her 
husband's death, after the Restoration, 

In addition to Ludlow and Hutchinson, Whitelocke should be 
looked at. The most important passages are generally in Italics ; 
and there are some with respect to Cromwell very remarkable : I 
allude to a dialogue between him and the usurper in St. James's 
Park. There are different editions of this work ; the last is the prop- 
er one. 

There is a great work of seven quarto volumes, Thurloe's State 
Papers, which contains much matter, but it is not often interesting, 
and the whole, therefore, would naturally be passed by ; yet this need 
not be the case, for there is a most excellent index, from which a suf- 
ficient idea of the contents of the volumes may be acquired ; they 
are sometimes important, and the reader may be enabled to find 
whatever the perusal of other works may lead him to look after. At 
the end there is given an account of the remarkable conferences that 
took place with Cromwell on the subject of his assuming the title of 
King,* most of which should be read : these are the conferences I 
alluded to at the beginning of this lecture. 

With respect to the situation of Charles the Second some idea may 
be formed from Clarendon ; more particularly, there is an account of 
the young king's escape after the battle of Worcester, not only in it- 
self romantic, but often very descriptive of the manners of the times, 
a merit that generally belongs to this writer ; there is a very curious 
one also in the Pepys Library at Magdalen. 

Sir Edward Walker, in his Historical Discourses, gives an account 
of the young king's proceedings in Scotland ; and in this account 
may be seen the state papers of the Presbyterians, in all their own 
ridiculous cant and phraseology ; for this reason the work is valuable. 
But with respect to other particulars, Hume has already seized upon 
all that were much worthy of notice, and transferred them to his His- 
tory. 

There is a work by Mr. Noble, Memoirs of the Cromwells, which 
may occupy a morning or two very agreeably and usefully ; a variety 
of information respecting the Protector and his family is given, and 
many sources of further information are presented to the reader, with 
an account of the different lives that have been written of the Pro- 
tector, and many particulars of his government and connections, of 
the persons he employed and honored, and of some of the leading 
characters that appeared in these singular times. 

* Professor Smyth refers to a quarto edition of Tliurloe. The folio edition of 1742 
is the only one of which I have been able to find any trace ; and the cojiies of tliis 
which I have consulted contain nothing whatever pertaining to these conferences, ex- 
cept a speech of Cromwell's. A full account of them will be found, however, in 
Somers's Tracts, 2d Coll. (London, 1750), Vol. iii. pp. 113- 174. — N. 



292 LECTURE XVII. 

There is a Life of Cromwell by Harris, in the manner of his other 
historical treatises, and equally valuable. 

There has been lately a Life published by one of his descendants, 
of the same name, a respectable lawyer at the Chancery bar ; it is, 
as might be expected from its origin, very tedious, and soon ceases 
to interest, for the reader perceives that the author is too determined 
a defender and panegyrist of his ancestor to deserve much attention. 

The description of Cromwell given by Cowley (his Vision) is Avell 
known, and this Vision is easily reduced, and, as always happens in 
such cases, is more than reduced, to the standard of propriety and 
truth by a few calm observations from the reasoning and balancing 
mind of Mr. Hume. The two paragraphs in the sixty-first chapter 
of Hume, the quotation from Cowley, and the comment, contrast 
agreeably enough the opposite merits of Cowley and Hume, of the 
poet and the philosopher. 

At the end of the sixtieth chapter of Hume there is a summary 
of the whole contest, remarkable, among other accounts, for its ad- 
mission that " the king had in some instances stretched his preroga- 
tive beyond its just bounds, and, aided by the Church, had wellnigh 
put an end to all the liberties and privileges of the nation." 

Thus much for the general topics that belong to this period of our 
history, and the writings where they may be found. 

But it is desirable that a more intimate knoAvledge should be ac- 
quired of the revenue that was drawn from the public during these 
times than can readily be gathered from a perusal of the historians. 
The work of Sir John Sinclair may be referred to, and ought to be 
consulted ; our general expectations will appear verified by the de- 
tails. These show the profligate waste of James the First, the infat- 
uated expense and arbitrary impositions of Charles the First, and the 
immense expenditure and embezzlement of the pubhc treasure during 
the Civil Wars and the domination of the Protector. These expenses 
of the Long Parliament and Cromwell have been produced to prove 
that republics are not less expensive than arbitrary governments. 
But no conclusion, either favorable or otherwise, can be drawn from 
cases of this kind, where republics are struggling for existence amid 
wars domestic and foreign, in a situation necessarily exposed to every 
species of mismanagement and irregularity. The question should 
rather be, whether republics or arbitrary governments are most liable 
to official extortion and plunder, and which are most disposed to en- 
gage in wars ; and arguments must be drawn from the conduct of 
each, when in a state of composure, and at liberty to follow the real 
genius of their respective constitutions. 

A far more accurate conclusion may be drawn from these financial 
details with respect to the endless miseries that must have been oc- 
casioned by these civil wars, — miseries such as appeared in no siege 
or field of battle, and such as no historian has delineated, or could 



RICHARD CROMWELL. 293 

delineate. We see, in the abstract of the money raised from 1640 
to 1G59, three miUions and a half from sequestrations of the lands 
from bishops, deans, and inferior clergy for four years. Another 
article is, one million and a half for the tenths of all the clergy, and 
other exactions from the Church, and this at a time when the millions 
of the subject did not roll into the exchequer in the countless pro- 
gressions of modern times. Yet, even in these times of our ances- 
tors, when the general affluence of the country was comparatively 
insignificant, the figures of Sir John Sinclair still move onward into 
rows of dreadful miUions, and in the following manner : — 

Sale of church lands jeiO,000,000 

Sequestrations of the estates and compositions with 

private individuals in England 4,500,000 

Compositions with delinquents (as in the jargon 
of civil hate they were denominated), those in 
Ireland 1,000,000 

And for the sale of the estates of those in England 

more than 2,000,000 

For the sale of Irish lands more than .... 1,000,000 
A long list this, in all of more than £23,000,000, every item of 
which is indicative of domestic wretchedness ; nothing is here in- 
cluded of subsidies, poll-money, assessments, and other levies, which 
were X 60,000,000 more. These are articles of account that in 
every shilUng of them, to the amount of these £23,000,000, suppose 
the loss of prosperity, families reduced, the scenes of private tran- 
quillity filled with alarm and terror, the comforts of society at an 
end, and the affluent, the aged, and the defenceless often thrown into 
a world of violence, to encounter privation, poverty, and every sad 
mutation of fortune that can sink the comfort or try the patience of 
the human heart. 

Such are the afflicting monuments of civil and religious hatred. 
We do not speak of the thousands that perished by sickness or the 
sword. 

Upon the death of Oliver, the Protectorate was quietly transferred 
to his son, and he received addresses from all quarters, that left him 
to expect the peaceable possession of his honors. But the sky was 
soon overcast ; he had fallen upon evil days, was unfit to control the 
soldiery, and, after consulting with Thurloe and other experienced 
counsellors, to learn how he could best maintain his authority, too 
amiable to contend for power by the sanguinary measures which were 
proposed to him, and too rational, perhaps, to be much concerned 
about the loss of it, he dissolved the Parliament which he had assem- 
bled, the only civil authority that existed, and therefore the only 
power that could be friendly to him, and left Fleetwood, Disbrowe, 
and the army to dispose of the affairs of the public as they thought 
proper. Monk was in Scotland with an army, and nothing very 

Y* 



294 LECTURE XVII. 

certain was known about him, but that Lambert and he were no 
friends. 

And noAv it was that the nation very narrowly escaped the great- 
est of all evils, — the contentions of rival generals at the head of their 
armies, the plusquam civilia hella. Happily, the officers that Crom- 
well left behind him were none of them, like himself, fit to rule the 
world when it was wildest. Of this Monk might be sufficiently 
aware. Lambert only could have been an object of apprehension to 
him. 

Monk must have been also aware that not only the Cavaliers, but 
all the Presbyterians, constituting together, as he must have suspect- 
ed, a large majority of the nation, longed ardently for the restoration 
of the monarchy. His own opinions, or, at least, ideas of interest, 
probably inclined the same way. 

His line of conduct was, therefore, clear, — that is, clear to such 
a man ; he could attain to no real consequence but by overpowering 
Lambert and the officers ; that danger he had to risk, and that only ; 
the Parliament which they had collected, and which was the remain- 
der of the Long Parliament, were decided Republicans ; those he 
could easily keep on good terms with, for they were on bad terms 
with their masters, the army ; and in the mean time, by marching to 
London, he could ascertain, as he passed through the country and 
the city, the real wishes of the people of England, and be prepared 
to provide for his own safety and fortunes, on every turn of the po- 
litical wheel, whether to monarchy or republicanism. The result 
was, that, with far less difficulty than could possibly have been ex- 
pected, he restored the young king to the throne of his ancestors. 

Monk was a leader of armies and of fleets, and upon every occa- 
sion displayed the most consummate valor. Yet is he never consid- 
ered as a hero ; so inseparable from our idea of heroism is that fear- 
less sincerity, that open, impetuous generosity, which formed, in fact, 
no part of his character. 

The ser\dces of Monk were of the most solid and striking nature ; 
he rescued his country from the domination of an army that had 
grown invincible among the Civil Wars, and that lived upon her ruin. 
Yet has Monk never been honored with the appellation of a patriot ; 
for he interested not himself in her laws and liberties, and temporized 
till he seemed to follow, rather than to lead, the current of pubUc 
sentiment. 

INIonk was originally the friend of Cromwell. He was employed 
by the Republic ; he received their pay, and led their armies ; he 
has been, therefore, denied even the common praise of a gentleman 
and a soldier, — integrity and honor. So deep a shade will always 
involve the fame of him who has ever, in politics, obviously shifted 
his ground, and at last adopted, whether from a real change of prin- 
ciple or not, the side wliich was favorable to his interest. 



MONK. 295 

These sweeping decisions of mankind on the characters of public 
men are not to be regretted ; public men should be taught that their 
virtues are at all events to be clear and intelligible, that their con- 
duct is to explain itself. Such expectations in the community are 
the best discipline that public men can conform to. Even when this 
discipline has had its full effect, under every form of government, the 
public men will always be too much disposed to sink themselves be- 
neath their own natural standard of excellence, to be satisfied with 
wishes and intentions, rather than positive exertions and acts of ser- 
vice, and to be too ready unworthily to yield to the suggestions of 
shuffling meanness and ingenious self-interest. 

The historian, indeed, may come afterwards with the exercise of 
that candor and intelligence which can never be expected from the 
public, and it may be Ms province, and his more proper province, to 
make his distinctions and explanations, and to weigh out in his faith- 
ful balance those more minute and doubtful portions of merit that 
belong to the characters he has to estimate. It may be for liim 
finally to decide what there is of virtue in the vicious, and of fault in 
the virtuous. In the instance before us, therefore, it is but justice 
to the memory of a man who acted so important a part in our history 
as Monk did, not slightly to disregard the representation of his char- 
acter by Hume ; it is too favorable, but it is easily contrasted with 
the severer estimates of opposite writers. 

There is a Life of jSIonk by his chaplain. Price, which I have at 
length been able to procure, but it disappointed me. There is another 
by his chaplain. Dr. Gumble, Avho was originally connected with the 
Crom wells, and writes like a violent Royalist. Violence, on a change 
of party or character, is not indeed very unusual, and it is as dis- 
graceful at last as it was at first. Gumble's narrative is interesting ; 
from his subject, and connection with Monk, it could not be other- 
wise ; but his account is, after all, what might be expected from the 
known facts of the history, and the particulars are interwoven into 
Hume's more concise account. There is also a History of Monk by 
Webster, or rather by Dr. Skinner, Monk's physician, for Webster is 
only the editor of the Doctor's manuscript. This work is also a 
minute and favorable account of Monk and the Restoration. Gum- 
ble's Life, at least, should be looked at, as it is always quoted. 

Monk is represented by these writers as always resolved in secret 
to restore, if possible, the monarchy ; but as this, from his professions 
and dissimulation, must always be doubtful, the clear merit of Monk 
is, that he effected, without bloodshed and completely, that which it 
was most desirable should be done by some one, and which at the time 
could be so done only by himself. This is his clear merit ; but the 
clear accusation against him is the heavy one of selfishness and base- 
ness. He received his commission and his army from the Republi- 
cans ; then converted them to the purpose of restoring royalty ; and 



296 LECTURE XVII. 

above all, he immediately afterwards sat in a court where Republicans 
were tried for their lives and condemned. 

But another capital fault in him was, that he made no effort for 
the security of the liberties of his country, either publicly by stipula- 
tions made with the king before he came over, or privately by expecta- 
tions intimated to him in the communications that took place previous- 
ly to the Restoration. His great praise was his advice to the king 
from the first to pass an act of indemnity on the past offences of his 
subjects ; but even this advice, it must be confessed, was at the time, 
both for himself and the sovereign, the best policy ; as the soldiers 
and officers who had dethroned Charles the First might otherwise 
have been rendered desperate. 

This part of the history is drawn up with great ability by Hume. 
It may be read in conjunction with the Parliamentary proceedings ; 
and the journal of Whitelocke now contains more passages than usual, 
which, however short, are most valuable, from being so descriptive of 
the times. His papers seem to have been burnt by his wife, in some 
moment of very natural alarm ; still, there remains the journal, mark- 
ed occasionally with those hvely touches of personal observation and 
feeling which can be given only by an actor in the scene. Wliite- 
locke was from the first right in his judgment ; he took Fleetwood 
aside, predicted the conduct of Monk, and told him that he must 
either immediately vanquish him in the field, or anticipate him in an 
accommodation with the young king. 

Whitelocke's Memorials were published by the Earl of Anglesey 
in 1682. He took considerable liberties with the manuscript. 
Another edition was published in 1732, which restored many im- 
portant passages struck out by the earl ; and hence the different 
price of the two editions, ten sliillings or five guineas. Hume always 
refers to the old or truncated edition. See D'Israeli, page 144, 
vol. i. of second series of Curiosities of Literature. 

The representations of the two Republicans, Ludlow and Hutchin- 
son, are also now more than ever interesting. 

The difficulty of the Republican party was always the same, and 
always insurmountable. They never could attain to power without 
the support of the army, and they then could never retain the army 
in civil obedience. But the ardor with which they pursued their re- 
public is very remarkable, and it seems to have blinded them to all 
the interests of the constitution, and of themselves. An important 
distinction existed in their opinions. Ludlow was prepared to borrow 
assistance for his political measures from the army. Hutchinson's 
republicanism was more pure and intelligent ; he always considered 
such expedients as unlawful, and unfit to be resorted to. We follow, 
therefore, Hutchinson to his retirement with stronger feelings of re- 
spect than Ludlow to his exile. 

Having now passed through the usurpation of Cromwell, the 



THE RESTORATION. 297 

speedy fall of his son, and the fiiilure of the RepubUcan party, I 
must briefly notice, before I conclude my lecture, the opening scenes 
of the Restoration. 

On the restoration of the king, as public opinion is ever in ex- 
tremes, the probability was, that the liberties of the country would 
be laid by the Parliaments at the feet of the monarch. But this 
cannot with any propriety be said of the first Parliament, — the 
Convention or Restoration Parliament. They sat from May to the 
end of the year. They passed an act, or rather confirmed an act of 
the Long Parliament, for taking away the courts of wards and 
liveries, together with tenures in capite, knights' service, tenures in 
purveyance. This was the great legislative merit of the Long Parlia- 
ment, to which I alluded in my last lecture as one not sufficiently 
noticed by historians. I must again refer you to the Note-book on 
the table. They were careful of grants of the public money ; they 
did not make the king independent of the ParUament, either by the 
revenue which they fixed upon him, or the standing force which they 
suffered to remain ; though, in exchange for this court of wards, they 
allowed him for life, and very reasonably, a grant of particular im- 
posts on ale, beer, and other liquors, and left him Monk's regiment, 
about four thousand men, Avhich were not disbanded, — a standing 
force, no doubt, that, however small, was still a precedent, and, as 
such, dangerous. 

I stop for a moment to observe, that the question of a standing 
army is very different in different situations of society. Our situation 
now, in the midst of our large manufacturing towns and counties, is 
very different from what it was in certain periods of our history ; our 
liberties, that is, the regular administration of the laws and the main- 
tenance of order, can now be secured only by the very same sort of 
force by which before they might have been endangered. 

Now one of the great reasons why the general maxims of the con- 
stitution were at this very critical period tolerably preserved must 
have been that so large a number of the Presbyterians had been 
elected into the Parliament : an important obHgation this, which, as 
their faults are remembered, should not be forgotten. 

The king and Parliament met and parted with mutual expressions 
of kindness. And after we have travelled through the horrors of a 
civil war, through all the ill-timed perseverance of the one party, the 
deplorable cant of the other, and the intolerance of all, it is very 
pleasing to us to hear at last the Parliament claiming to themselves 
the title of the Healing Parliament, and the Chancellor Clarendon, 
in one of his speeches, declaring that " the king was a suitor to them, 
that he made it his suit very heartily, that they would join Avith him 
in restoring the whole nation to its primitive temper and integrity, 
to its old good manner, its old good humor, and its old good nature." 

It is on occasions like these that the character of this minister is 
38 



298 LECTURE XVII. 

SO attractive and respectable. It is understood, that, even during 
the sitting of this Parliament, he dissuaded the king from an attempt 
to procure an independent revenue for life. And, on the whole, it 
sufficiently appears that he never failed, Avhile he possessed any in- 
fluence, to use it to purposes the most noble, by recalling his sover- 
eign's mind, whenever a fair opportunity offered, to those great prin- 
ciples and free maxims of the English constitution which, as the 
chancellor's good sense and bitter experience had told him, were not 
only the safeguard of the liberty of the subject, but the best security 
of the crown. 

The mind of the chancellor was ardent ; and, when the punishment 
of the Regicides came to be decided upon, his own sufferings and 
those of his first unhappy master made him, and still more the court 
and the lords, but too much forget the recommendations he had so 
well expressed in his speeches. 

The trials of these state criminals are not long, and must by all 
means be read. Curious particulars are mentioned in them respect- 
ing the trial and condemnation of Charles, and the views and con- 
duct of Cromwell and his adherents. But the great feature of the 
whole is the frightful enthusiasm of these misguided men, — fright- 
ful, because society can never be considered as perfectly safe, since 
human nature appears, from instances like these, capable of so wide 
a departure from all sobriety and reason. The observation of Hume, 
which from him might be at first suspected, will be found true : — 
that " no saint or confessor ever went to martyrdom with more as- 
sured confidence of heaven than was expressed by those criminals, 
even when the terrors of immediate death, joined to many indignities, 
were set before them." 

" I followed not my own judgment," said Harrison, on his trial ; " I 

did what I did as out of conscience to the Lord May be, I 

might be a little mistaken ; but I did it all according to the best of 
my understanding, desiring to make the revealed will of God in his 
Holy Scriptures as a guide to me." — p. 320.* 

" I can say," cried Carew, another of the regicides, " in the pres- 
ence of the Lord, who is the Searcher of all hearts, that what I did 
was in his fear ; and I did it in obedience to his holy and righteous 
laws."t 

" I take God to witness," said Scott, " I have often, because it 
was spoken well of by some, and ill by others, I have by prayers and 
tears often sought the Lord, that, if there were iniquity in it, he 
would show it me." (p. 336.) — This man, in the interval which 
passed between the going and returning of the sledge that was first 
to take his fellow-sufferer to execution and afterwards himself, fell 
asleep ! $ 

* State Trials (3d ed., London, 1742), Vol. ii. — N. t Ibid. p. 331. — N. 

J It does not appear upon what authority Scott is made the siibject of this anecdote ; 



THE REGICIDES. 299 

Of all spectacles, the most alarming to a reflecting mind is the 
feebleness of reason to oppose religious or even political enthusiasm. 
Not only the vulgar, but men of education the most Hberal, of 
talents the most brilliant, men like Sir Harry Vane, are almost 
equally exposed to these fatal eclipses of the understanding. Every 
protection that can be afforded to us by the powers of reasoning 
has been offered to us by Locke, in his observations on Enthusi- 
asm. Practically, there seems nothing to be added, in the way of 
caution, but in rehgion never to lose sight of morality, and in political 
speculation never to depart from the great leading forms and maxims 
of the constitution. These humble principles, however, so obvious 
and so safe, are soon despised by men of ardent temperament ; and 
it is the first symptom of religious or pohtical enthusiasm to deny or 
disregard them. 

The feelings of the public do not appear to have been outraged by 
the horrid mode of the execution of these regicides ; and as they 
would be so at the present day, the national humanity must be con- 
sidered as having most materially improved : an indication, this, of im- 
provement in many other important pomts. 

With respect to the number that were put to death, the conclusion 
is, on the whole, considering the nature of these times and the occa- 
sion, tolerably favorable to the court and to the kingdom. About 
thirteen were executed ; but most of the regicides lost their estates ; 
and of those who did not fly, many were kept to die in imprisonment, 
and very improper cruelty seems here to have been exercised. 

JNIen must, no doubt, be deterred from crimes against the state by 
positive punishments ; but the more complete and wide the acts of 
indemnity and oblivion are made in national dissensions, the better. 
The rancor of contending parties is thus softened. What is of still 
more consequence, the returns to peace in the course of national 
contests are afterwards more practicable. The great impediment to 
conciliation is always, that the parties dare not trust each other. He 
who draws his sword against the prince must throw away the scab- 
bard. The steps between the prisons and graves of princes ai-e few. 
These maxims, the dreadful maxims of civil dispute, have been the 

but in the State Trials the same circumstance is related of another of the regicides, 
Scroop, and Scott is represented as having spent his last hours in prayer and conversa- 
tion with his family and friends. " When the time approached for his execution, 
iL'. Scott and Mr. Clements were first carried away in the sleds, and the same sleds 
were afterwards to come and carry Col. Scroop and Col. Jones. During that time, says 
Col. Scroop, ' Well, Brother Jones, do you spend your time as the Lord shall direct 
you : 1 intend to take a little sleep, for I slept not well last night, and my countenance 
is not so fresh as I would have it.' Tliereupou he laid him down, and slept so sound- 
ly that he snored very loud, and so continued until the sled came for him ; whereupon, 
being awakened, he riseth up, and a friend, taking him in his anns, asked him how he 
did. He answers, ' VeiT well, I thank God, never better in all my life. And now,' 
saith he, ' will I ivash mine hands in innocciicy ; so will I compass thine altar, Lord.' 
And so with great cheerfulness went to execution." State Trials, Vol. ii. p. 416. 
See, also, p. 412. — N. 



300 LECTURE XVII. 

cause of more misery and destruction to sovereigns and their sub- 
jects than all the real causes of contention that ever existed between 
them. 

The history of our country during these wars was not defiled by 
those massacres, assassinations, proscriptions, or, with the exception 
of the execution of the king, with those outrages which have marked 
the progress of ci\il and religious fury in other countries and ages : 
a striking testimony to the merits of the English constitution, which 
alone could have infused into all ranks those manly feelings which 
are so indispensably necessary to the maintenance of honorable war- 
fare ; an indirect proof, at the same time, that the constitution had 
not been of the arbitrary nature that was by some supposed. 

This lecture was written many years ago, and there has been late- 
ly published a work on this subject by Mr. Godwin. It should by 
all means be read ; it is always interesting, and sometimes contains 
anecdotes and passages that are curious and striking ; — Godwin is 
always a powerful writer ; — and, above all, it is the statement of the 
case of the Republicans. 

But, on the whole, in these volumes of Godwin there is no suffi- 
cient intimation given of the religious hypocrisy and cant of the Pres- 
byterians first, or of the Independents and Cromwell afterwards. The 
history is an effort in favor of the Republicans of those times, found- 
ed on the paramount merit of a repubHc at all times. It is also very 
nearly a panegyric of Cromwell, — certainly so, as far as regard for 
the Republicans admitted. 

From these pages it may be collected that Charles was never sin- 
cere, — that is, would never have adhered to any engagements, if he 
could have helped it ; that the Presbyterians sacrificed every thing 
to their hatred of Episcopacy, as Charles did to his love of it ; that 
the English nation was never sufficiently Republican for the purposes 
of the Independents ; afterwards, that Cromwell could never manage 
Royalists, Presbyterians, and Republicans, all of whom united against 
him. It is not sufficiently shown how Cromwell contrived to manage 
those whom he did manage ; aU is made to depend on his personal 
powers of persuasion : but it is plain that his was an unsuccessful 
usurpation, after all. 



CHARLES THE SECOND. 301 



LECTURE XVIII. 



CHARLES THE SECOND. 

Towards the close of my last lecture I alluded to the opening 
scenes of the Restoration. I then reminded you of the remark that 
political reasoners have always made on occasions of this nature, — 
that, as mankind are ever in extremes, their resistance or rebelhon 
no sooner ceases and changes into obedience than their obedience be- 
comes servihty ; and that such renewals of an ancient government 
form an epoch of all others the most critical and dangerous to the 
hberties of a people. 

The scenes that took place everywhere in the metropolis and 
through the kingdom, during the first stages of the Restoration, cer- 
tainly confirmed such general conclusions. To a certain degree, so 
did even the proceedings of the Restoration Parhament. Still, it 
must be allowed that more care was taken of the hberties of the sub- 
ject by the House of Commons than the general principles of human 
nature would have led us to expect ; and this, as I then observed, is 
an important merit that belongs to the Presbyterians, who constituted 
so large a portion of its members, particularly to Sir Matthew Hale, 
the judge so justly celebrated. Hale is understood not to have been 
Avanting to his country at this memorable period. He endeavoured 
to take proper securities for the constitution, — to come to some un- 
derstandhig with the king on this subject before he was finally re- 
stored ; but all proposals of this kind were overruled. 

You wiU do w^ell, therefore, to observe the events that followed in 
consequence of these securities not having been taken. You will 
observe the conduct of the king through the whole of his reign, and 
finally the revolution that at length became necessary, in the short 
space of less than thirty years ; and that, at tliis revolution, the pa- 
triotic party did only take such securities as Sir ]\Iatthew Hale would 
probably have proposed at the Restoration. You will then make 
your own inferences with respect to the propriety of all principles of 
general confidence, when interests so dehcate, so fugitive, so impor- 
tant are concerned as those of civil liberty. ]\Ien of peaceable dis- 
positions and refined minds are always the first to countenance these 
prmciples of general confidence in rulers and government ; they are 
the very men, as I have once before observed, who should be the 
last ; for they are the very men Avho of all others would stand most 
aghast, when things were at last driven to the dreadful alternative 
either of asserting the liberties of a people by force or losing them 
for ever. 



302 LECTURE XVIII. 

We now proceed to the history of the reign. The first Parlia- 
ment, the Convention or Restoration Parliament, was soon dissolved, 
and a new and regular Parhament was immediately summoned, and 
met in May, 1661. This was the Pensionary Parliament, as it was 
called, the Parliament that sat afterwards for so many years. Great 
exertions had been made by Clarendon in the elections, and it is un- 
derstood that only about fifty-three of the Presbyterian interest were 
returned. 

The settlement of the nation after the Rebellion was the great 
work before them, and was, in fact, intrusted to Lord Clarendon. 
This settlement was principally to be directed to two main points. In 
the first place, the state of the property was to be adjusted. Great 
transmutations had taken place, amid the rapine and confiscations, 
forced sales and purchases, which had been made under the author- 
ity of Parliament and the Protectorate. The adherents of the king 
were visibly those who had suffered during the commotions. 

This subject is left in great perplexity by the account of Claren- 
don ; but, comparing this account with other representations, to be 
found in a note in Harris's Life of Charles the Second (vol. i. 
p. 370), on the whole it may be concluded that such property as 
had been torn from the royal party, and was still in any very visible 
and distinguishable shape, was after some delay and management 
seized upon by the state and restored to its original owners. The 
crown lands, for instance, the Church lands, were taken from those 
who had purchased and held on Parliamentary titles, and some of 
the estates of the great families were recovered ; but, on the whole, 
the good sense and legal education of Clarendon, and the natural 
fears of the king lest his throne should be endangered, concurred in 
producing the Acts of Indemnity and Oblivion. These were passed 
in the Restoration Parliament, and immediately confirmed on the 
meeting of the new Parliament. By these acts men seem to have been 
in general secured in the possession of their estates and property, as 
they then stood, with such exceptions as I have alluded to, and so 
endless a subject of contention was for ever put to rest. 

The next great subject was one of even more difficulty, — the 
final settlement of the Church. The Church government had become 
Presbyterian. Was it to remain so ? Was it to be modified ? The 
circumstances were these. In England, intolerance had run, as in 
other countries, its natural course ; first, between the Papists and 
Protestants, as you Avill see in Fox's Martyrs, and Dodd's Church 
History. The Church of England under Elizabeth had waged war 
also with the Puritans, still more so under James the First, and 
again, yet more violently, under the direction and counsels of Charles 
the First and Laud. All this you will see in Neal's History of the 
Puritans ; you will easily make out from the prefaces what the chap- 
ters contain. In the Great Rebellion, however, it had happened 



CHARLES THE SECOND. 303 

that the Presbyterians had established themselves, and they perse- 
cuted the members of the Chufch of England in their turn. On 
this head Walker's Sufferings of the Clergy may be consulted. A 
few pages of the work, where the author gives a general computation 
of the numbers who suffered, and a few more where he describes the 
different cases, will be a sad and sufficient specimen of the subject. 
Finally, under these mutual injuries, the members of the Clmrch of 
England, who had been so distressed and overcome, were now once 
more triumphant by the event of the Restoration. Such were the 
circumstances, when the final settlement of the whole awaited the 
direction of Clarendon. 

Now, that the Estabhshment should be suffered to continue as it 
then stood, to continue Presbyterian, was not to be expected. The 
chancellor had succeeded to the controversial opinions of his unfortu- 
nate master, Charles the First. A large description of laymen and 
divines concurred with him, all, like himself, long and highly exas- 
perated with the Presbyterians ; and the king, in the mean time, was, 
in secret, chiefly anxious that in the settlement some kindness and 
service might be rendered to the Roman CathoUcs. Clarendon and 
the Church could not assent to those theological tenets which they 
considered as false ; nor could, in like manner, the Presbyterians to 
those which they equally considered as unauthorized by the Scrip- 
tures. The only question, therefore, was, whether all mention of the 
points in dispute could not be omitted, and the communion be thus 
made sufficiently comprehensive to include both. 

This measure was practicable, for the Presbyterians objected not 
to the lawfulness of an Establisliment ; and their differences with the 
Church of England related chiefly, in doctrine, to the particular point 
of the apostolic origin of Episcopacy, and in disciphne, to some few 
others of ceremony, — such as the wearing of the surplice, and the 
bowing at the name of Jesus, relics of Popery, as they conceived, — 
points which, whether in themselves important or not, became impor- 
tant to the inferior sect, if the superior sect insisted upon them, and 
if they were not passed over in silence. The question, therefore, 
was, whether points of ceremony, at least, coidd not be passed over 
in silence by Clarendon and the Church of England. 

No adjustment of the kind, however, took place. The misfortune 
is, that no men have ever yet been able to prevail upon themselves 
to adopt a system of comprehension, who had it in their power to do 
otherwise : they cannot bear to omit in silence, for the sake of peace, 
and on the principles of benevolence and policy, those points which 
they find disputed ; they are rather urged the more, on that accoimt, 
to estabhsh what they believe to be the doctrines of truth. The 
love of truth, and impatience of opposition, in this manner become 
passions that inflame each other, and not only in those who impose 
the law, but in those who are to receive it, in the inferior as well as 



304 LECTURE xvm. 

the superior sect. Vain, in the mean time, are the convocations, and 
conferences, and discussions of theologians ; and therefore the result 
of the whole is, that questions of this nature have always been deter- 
mined, very disgracefully to mankind, merely by the opinions of the 
strongest sect. 

In tliis instance, the Presbyterians, as they were the inferior sect, 
pressed hard for a comprehension ; but their hopes had gradually 
clouded over after the restoration of the king. Conferences were 
appointed between their divines and those of the Church of England, 
wliich may be judged of by those who pursue this subject through 
Neal, Baxter, and other writers ; but all to no purpose, and the Act 
of Uniformity was at length passed ; the terms of which turned out 
to be such, that the Presbyterian ministers could not conscientiously 
conform. Two thousand of them, on the day appointed for their 
final decision, threw up their livings ; a memorable sacrifice, no doubt, 
to principle, after all that can be said, and that has been said, not 
very liberally, to explain away its merit. • 

Lord Clarendon, in the History of his Life, gives a full account of 
this great measure, and of all the acts of his very important adminis- 
tration. Most of this History of liis Life is extremely interesting, — 
this part particularly. But along with this account in Clarendon, 
the work of Neal should be considered : part of the fourth chapter, 
and the fifth, sixth, and seventh chapters of the second part of the 
second volume, should be very attentively read. They are not long, 
and, with Clarendon, will be sufficient. But Burnet may be after- 
wards referred to. 

Since these passing observations were written, the Constitutional 
History of Mr. Hallam has appeared, where the whole subject is very 
ably and impartially presented to the reflection of the reader, and 
must by all means be read. 

When the student has arrived at the termination of the subject, he 
ought once more to consider the short, but important, declaration of 
the king from Breda ; and, again, his declaration after he was restor- 
ed, in October, 16G0, when enough was promised for the reconcile- 
ment of the moderate of both parties : and nothing more could have 
been expected, if it had been faithfully executed. It will scarcely 
be thought that Clarendon and the court were sufficiently observant 
of the pledges they had there given : all the real spirit and meaning 
of the king's promises were violated. Clarendon's excuse is not suf- 
ficient ; it is, that these promises were expressly declared subject to 
such limitations, exceptions, and modifications as the Parhament 
should afterwards make. But the acts of Parliament must necessari- 
ly be considered, in this case, as those of the king and his ministers; 
and a splendid opportunity was lost, first, of making a benign and 
wise effort for avoiding penal statutes, and allaying religious differ- 
ences, by a scheme of comprehension ; secondly, of exemplifying the 



CHARLES THE SECOND. 305 

high honor and integrity of men in exalted stations, and the solidity, 
under whatever circumstances, of public engagements. 

The reign of Charles may be divided into two intervals, by the dis- 
grace of Clarendon. The first part we have now slightly touched 
upon ; and my hearers must be referred to Clarendon's own Life, and 
the details of the regular historians, Burnet, and Hume, and Rapin, 
for proper information. We must now turn to consider the second 
interval of the reign, — that which begins after the disgrace of Clar- 
endon. 

Some time after the fall of this constitutional and upright, though 
not blameless minister, his merits were fully attested by the dreadful 
alterations that took place in the counsels of the sovereign. The 
reader instantly perceives, from the first appearance of the celebrated 
ministry called the Cabal, to the end of Charles's reign, that the 
most important struggle is still carrying on between the power of the 
cro\vn and the rights of the people ; and that the reign of Charles the 
Second is but a sort of supplement to the Great Rebellion in the 
time of his father. It is obvious, through the whole of this latter 
period of the reign, that the interests of Europe are as much aban- 
doned by the court, as is all care of the liberties of England. 
Abroad and at home, the reader's sympathies are excited ; the 
ambition of Louis the Fourteenth is seen, determined on the destruc- 
tion of the Dutch republic and of every power that can be opposed to 
its injustice ; while Charles, far from assisting the Dutch, seems 
rather engaged in an equally unprincipled enterprise against the con- 
stitution of his own country, and against every thing that can be an 
impediment to his expensive profligacy. 

The subject, then, of the second part of the reign, the era which 
succeeded the disgrace of Clarendon, is the corruption of Charles, 
his connection with Louis the Fourteenth, his designs against the 
civil and religious hberties of this country by means of Louis's as- 
sistance; these are the points to which your attention must be di- 
rected. These designs were continued all through the reign, and I 
know not how better to attract your curiosity to this part of the 
reign, or better to allude to the connection that existed between the 
two monarchs for the destruction of the hberties of Holland and of 
England, than by describing to you the books and documents which, 
when you come to examine the reign, will necessarily claim your 
perusal. This, therefore, I shall proceed to do. 

In the first place, it must be observed, that not much can be com- 
prehended of the secret and real history of the period that succeeded 
the administration of Clarendon from the debates in the Houses ; 
they must be read, but they serve rather to illustrate the representa- 
tions of the historians, than to form, themselves, the materials of 
history. 

The work of Burnet is to be perused ; the reader will there per- 
39 z* 



306 LECTURE xvm. 

ceive in what colors the scene appeared to a sensible, upright, and 
very active observer, living at the time. An account of this kind is 
always quoted by subsequent historians, and has an interest and im- 
portance which the reader will soon feel as he proceeds, and which 
cannot be well described. After considering the pages of Burnet, I 
would ask the student whether his general conclusion is not this, — 
that the whole of this part of the reign of Charles was a conflict be- 
tween the crown and the people, originating in the profligacy of the king, 
which, requiring larger supplies of money than the Commons could or 
ought to grant, urged him on to the most desperate attempts and 
practices against the constitution, rather than deny himself the grati- 
fication of his vices, and that it is even very probable, upon the face 
of Burnet's account, from the nature of a licentious character like 
this, that he descended to the meanness and criminality of receiving 
money from Louis, under some disguise or other, — sometimes that 
he might consent to assist, and sometimes that he might not impede, 
that monarch's unprincipled enterprises on the Continent ? This, it 
appears to me, Avould be the general conclusion, deducible from the 
acknowledged facts of the times, though not the shghtest assistance 
could be obtained from any private memorials or confidential docu- 
ments whatever ; and this remark I may have occasion to recall to 
your remembrance hereafter. 

After Burnet, we may turn to Hume, and read him in conjunction 
with the debates in the Houses. Nothing can be more attractive, 
nothing can more strongly exemplify the charms and the merits of 
his seductive pages, than his life of Charles the Second. Ready, 
however, as every reader will naturally be to give his confidence to 
so masterly a writer, he cannot but perceive that the character of 
Charles the Second, as given by the historian, reflects not to his mind 
the true image of the original, but resembles rather one of those por- 
traits which we so often see presented to us by the skill of a superior 
artist, where every grace and beauty that can consist with the like- 
ness is transferred to the canvas, while every, the most inherent, de- 
formity or defect is withdrawn or disguised. 

It had not escaped the most ordinary politicians in the times of 
Charles, that there must have been some secret alliance between the 
king and Louis. It was, indeed, known as a fact to some of the 
popular leaders ; proofs of the corruption of Charles were at last pro- 
duced, even in the House of Commons, and became the apparent 
cause of Danby's impeachment. All the political writers of this 
period evidently suppose, that not only the House of Commons was 
bribed by the king, but the court itself by France. In the fourth 
page of the eighth volume of Hume, there is a remarkable passage, 
in which he says, that, on the whole, we are obliged " to acknowledge 
(though there remains no direct evidence of it), that a formal plan 
was laid for changing; the relidon and subvertino; the constitution of 



CHARLES THE SECOND. 307 

England, and that the king and the ministry [the Cabal] were in re- 
ahty conspirators against the people." 

But after his sagacity and good sense had dragged him into this 
conclusion, he made inquiries in France, during his residence there, 
and saw with his own eyes that direct evidence which he had not 
supposed in existence. This evidence was found in some manuscript 
volumes kept in the Scotch College at Paris, and which Mr. Hume 
was permitted to peruse. These manuscript volumes were neither 
more nor less than a journal written by James the Second in his 
own hand, of his own hfe, during the most critical period of our 
history. 

From such a treasure as this, it is a matter to be lamented, and, 
indeed, deserving of extreme surprise, that such an historian as 
Hume did no more than produce a single extract. This extract was 
important, but it might surely have been conceived that such manu- 
scripts would have opened a boundless field of observation to one 
who was so capable of remarking on human character and political 
events. But on some account or other, not explained (and which I 
think cannot be explained favorably to Hume), he contented himself 
with adding to his History a single note, and nothing more. 

There is yet again in Mr. Hume's History a second note on this 
reign of Charles (page 20(3) which deserves our attention ; this 
second note is drawn from another source, — not from the papers or 
Life of James the Second, but the papers of Barillon, who was the 
French ambassador at the time. Charles, towards the close of his 
reign, dismissed his Parliament (says Mr. Hume in his text) and de- 
termined to govern by prerogative alone. " Whether any money," 
he continues, " was now remitted to England, we do not certainly 
know, but we may fairly presume that the king's necessities were in 
some degree relieved by France." And then follows a note, the 
note I now allude to, in which he gives an extract from one of the 
letters of Barillon, containing an account of a regular agreement 
verbally entered into between Charles and Louis, where good services 
are promised by the one and money by the other, for the purpose, it 
is said, of putting his Britannic majesty out of the reach of all con- 
straint from his Parliament, which could interfere with his new en- 
gagements with Louis. 

This curious treaty was communicated to Mr. Hume while in 
France, and by him to the public ; but Mr. Hume gives no account 
of any further attempt to become acquainted with these despatches 
of the French ambassador, which it was evident, however, would un- 
veil, wherever they could be inspected, the most curious scenes of 
intrigue and corruption. Hume liimself thought them important, as 
appears by one of liis letters to Robertson. 

After the perusal of Mr. Hume, we may turn to the Life of 
Charles the Second by Harris. The notes are full of information, 



308 LECTURE XVIII. 

and of particulars which the reader may not have an opportunity of 
selecting from their original sources, or, indeed, of readily finding 
in any other manner. 

The connection of Charles with France, and the dishonorable na- 
ture of it, were sufficiently clear to this diligent investigator from the 
common authorities ; but in his note (page 228, vol. ii.) he extracts 
a passage from a letter wTitten to him by a friend, who had that 
morning heard read a letter from a gentleman who, while in France, 
had been permitted to see the memoirs of King James : his account 
is the same as Hume's. And now it is observable enough, that there 
is a passage in Voltaire's History of Louis the Fourteenth, which 
Harris quotes, and which tells the reader in a few simple words every 
thing which he can desire to know on this subject, and the sum and 
substance of every thing that there is to be known. " Louis," says 
Voltaire, — writing this long before the pubhcation of Dalrymple's 
History, which I shall hereafter mention, — " designed the conquest 
of the Low Countries, which he intended to commence with that of 

Holland But England was to be detached Louis did 

not find it difficult to engage Charles the Second in his designs 

His passion was to enjoy his pleasures Louis, who to have 

money then needed only to speak, promised a great sum to Charles, 
who could never get any without the sense of his Parliament. The 

secret treaty concluded between the two kings was, &c 

Charles signed every thing Louis desired," &c., &c. ; and then the 
treaty is given, with the addition of some material circumstances. 
Such is the important information given by Voltaire. But Voltaire 
is a writer who, on account of his universality, his liveliness, and his 
known misrepresentations on sacred subjects, is never believed on 
any other, further than he is seen ; or rather, as he never intimates 
his authorities, which he ought always to have done, every one be- 
lieves as much of his historical accounts, or as little, as he thinks 
proper. 

The cori-uption, therefore, of Charles, and his conspiracy against 
his people, was an historical fact very fairly made out, when Mr. 
Macpherson repaired to Paris, — an author not a httle celebrated in 
the literary world (the author or editor of Ossian), one who could 
find manuscripts or make them, produce or withhold them, and in 
short, as it was understood, proceed with equal rapidity and success 
with them or without them. Two quarto volumes could not fail to be 
the consequence of this journey ; the memoirs of King James could 
not possibly escape him ; and the readers of history were at last 
gratified with extracts from this interesting performance, and with a 
regular work, entitled " Original Papers, containing the Secret His- 
tory of Great Britain," &c., &c. 

But when we come to open the volumes of INIacpherson, we shall, 
in the first place, be somewhat dissatisfied with the introduction : 



CHARLES THE SECOND. 309 

Macpherson tells his story, but not mth. simplicity ; while simplicity, 
detail, minuteness, are, on occasions like this, not only the best test 
in point of literary composition, but indispensably necessary ; for 
what the reader ought to know, and all that he desires to know, is 
the exact authority on wliich he is left to depend. When, in the 
next place, the Papers themselves are consulted, they seem not a 
journal written by the king himself in the first person, but a narror 
tiye where he appears in the third ; this, however, might have been 
the king's mode of writing, and is not decisive : but it is soon ob- 
servable that the Duchess of Cleveland is mentioned by that name, 
when the period of which the writer speaks is nine years and a half 
before the title was conferred upon her ; so that the journal, or nar- 
rative, was evidently written, not while the events it alludes to were 
taking place, but long after ; it therefore comes not warm from the 
heart, has nothing in it of that unpremeditated statement, exhibits 
none of those prompt and genuine impressions of the moment, which 
are the great delight and study of the philosopher and historian, 
whenever they can be surveyed, and is therefore, at all events, not 
as valuable as might have been expected. In the extracts furnished 
by Mr. Macpherson, little comment can be found on what are known 
to be the most critical points of the history of the times ; and, on 
the whole, as far as the reign of Charles is concerned, the reader is 
extremely disappointed in the matter and in the manner, in the au- 
thor and in the editor, of this journal or narrative, as exliibited by 
Macpherson. 

But these memoirs of King James were destined to meet with one 
inquirer more. The late jNIr. Fox, having formed a serious design 
of writing a more faithful account than he conceived had as yet been 
given of the great era in our history, the Revolution in 1688, re- 
paired, as Mr. Macpherson had done, to Paris ; and the journal of 
King James was, of course, one of the objects which occupied his 
attention. The history of his researches is contained in Lord Hol- 
land's preface to Mr. Fox's posthumous work. From this it appears 
that there was deposited in the Scotch College, not only an original 
journal by King James, but a narrative compiled from it, either by 
the younger Dryden, or one of the superiors of the society ; and that 
it is the narrative from which extracts have been taken by Macpher- 
son, not the journal. Mr. Fox declared, in a private letter to Mr. 
Laing, that he had made out that Macpherson never saw the journal. 
And, on turning to Macpherson's introduction, the student will find, 
that, though this skilful artist leads his reader to suppose that he 
saw this journal and copied it, still that he nowhere exactly says that 
he ever did see it ; and his not having done so, and his wishing to 
be thought to have done so, have given rise to that want of simpUc- 
ity in his statement which we have already noticed, and of which 
the necessity in all such prefaces is thus rendered more than ever 
apparent. 



310 LECTURE XVIII. 

The fate of the original journal is curious : it was burnt from ter- 
ror under the horrors of the French Revolution, when any thing con- 
nected with royalty, it was supposed, would be fatal to the possessor. 
The narrative is still safe, and is in the possession of Dr. Cameron, 
of Edinburgh. 

Since I wrote the last paragraph, another copy of the narrative 
has been purchased in Italy. It was published by the direction of 
the present king, when he was regent ; and his merits were very 
great in first procuring these papers, and in suffering them after- 
wards to be exhibited to the curiosity of the public. The Life of 
James the Second, by Dr. James Stanier Clarke, is the title of the 
book. An article in the Edinburgh Review * will give you all proper 
information. 

But another publication remains yet to be mentioned, which de- 
servedly excited the attention of the public on its first appearance, 
and which must always be examined with great care by every in- 
quirer into the constitutional history of England, — the second vol- 
ume of the Memoirs of Dalrymple. You may remember that I have 
already mentioned a note in Mr. Hume's History, founded on Baril- 
lon's despatches. This note showed clearly the importance of these 
despatches of the French ambassador. Sir John Dalrymple obtained 
permission from the French government to examine these despatches, 
and the second volume contains the result of his researches, 

I shall endeavour to give you some general notion of the nature 
of these original materials, furnished by Macpherson in the first 
place, by these Stuart papers in the second, and by Sir John Dal- 
rymple in the third. 

I have already mentioned why the papers of Macpherson neither 
are nor could be so interesting as might have been expected, since it 
is not the king's own journal that the extracts are drawn from, but 
the narrative which was itself made out of the journal. Yet it is 
impossible that some curious particulars should not find their way 
even into a document like this. We see, for instance. Clarendon 
censured by James for not having made the crown more independent 
of the Commons in point of revenue, for not repealing the destructive 
laws of the Long Parliament, &c., &c. 

Opposition to the court is always considered by James, then Duke 
of York, as, of course, faction and republicanism. Vol. i. p. 50, an 
account of the celebrated treaty with France, mentioned by Hume, 
is to be found ; it is mentioned more than once with some important 
particulars, (pp. 54, 80.) The ministers, it is said, contrived a mar- 
riage between the Prince of Orange and the Princess Mary, to pacify 
the Parliament, — James against it. And on the most important 
struggle of the reign, the bill of exclusion, there are these words 

* Edinburgh Review for June, 1816. — N. 



CHARLES THE SECOND. 311 

(p. Ill) : — " Algernon Sidney, and the ablest of the rcpubliccan 
pai'tj, said, that, if a bill of limitation was once got, they should 
from that moment think themselves sure of a republic " ; and these 
Avords are subjoined, — " So the king judged." Now the answer 
which the king always made to the popular leaders, when they 
pressed for a bill to exclude the Duke of York from the throne, was 
this, — that he would not exclude him, but would grant any lim- 
itations that could be thought necessary. It is clear, therefore, 
from this extract, that the king was not sincere when he offered limi- 
tations ; for he could have offered nothing sincerely which he judged 
would lead to a republic. 

Page 117. — " The House of Commons," says the duke, " re- 
solved, at some of their cabals, to begin with the bill of exclusion. 
Either that, or a bill of limitations, would be the destruction of the 
monarchy. It would serve Ukewise for a precedent to meddle with 
the succession on all occasions, and make monarchy elective," 

In page 124, is mentioned the curious agreement between Louis 
and Charles, quoted from Barillon by Hume. " The king's necessi- 
ties," says the manuscript, " forced him to a private treaty with 
France. Fifty thousand pounds a quarter were the terms," &c., &c. 

There is a curious description of Shaftesbury, and of the king's 
death, and of his conformity to the Roman Catholic religion : and, on 
the whole, the duke appears as bigoted in his religion, and as arbi- 
trary in his political opinions, as might have been expected. 

I now allude, secondly, to the Stuart papers. Macpherson's work 
is now not a little superseded by the Stuart papers that have been 
published, — the Life of James the Second by J. S. Clarke. The 
same conclusions, however, may be draA\Ti from the whole and from 
every part of these Stuart papers. Indeed, this is the most impor- 
tant point of view in which they can be placed ; they will in every 
other respect disappoint you. They are a life of James, and yet 
there is little or nothing said of the Civil War, or of the Restoration, 
or of any other particulars to which your curiosity would naturally 
be directed. jNIuch of the work is occupied with that part of the 
duke's life that was passed on the Continent. But these papers are 
still perfectly valuable, because they everywhere confirm the reason- 
ings and justify the opinions that have been formed by historians and 
statesmen on the critical topics of these times, the corruption of 
Charles, the bigoted and arbitrary nature of James, and the necessi- 
ty of the Revolution of 1G88. Wise and good men have not been 
at all deceived, as it is now evident from these papers. They vary, 
however, much in their importance in different places ; and if you will 
only look well at the margin, and consider the subject-matter of the 
page before you, you will easily separate what is trifling from what is 
instructive, and in this manner find it an easy and even short task to 
read these two quarto volumes, large as they may appear. 



312 LECTURE XVIII. 

And now it must be observed, that it is a point of some literary 
curiosity, at least, to determine what were the proceedings of Mac- 
pherson when he went to the Scotch College. In the work he has 
given to the public, whole paragraphs appear, verbatim, as they now 
appear in these Stuart papers. In general, the extracts given by 
Macpherson are abridged from the Stuart papers. You may easily 
compare the corresponding passages in the two works. But there 
are passages in Macpherson that I do not see in these Stuart papers ; 
they are taken from Carte and others. Whence they were originally 
derived by Carte and others is not very clear. Carte was a Jac- 
obite, left his papers to the Bodleian Library at Oxford, and Mac- 
pherson availed himself of them. These matters, are, however, of 
less importance, now that we have got in the Stuart papers an au- 
thentic document, containing always the sentiments and views either 
of James himself, or of those who were in his court and in his con- 
fidence, and who had, therefore, the same opinions with himself. But 
the character of Macpherson seems at an end. He endeavoured to 
deceive the public, and to make them believe that the extracts he 
gave were from the king's own journal ; this they were not. He 
never saw the journal, as I have before mentioned. He made ex- 
tracts from the Stuart papers, and additions from those of Carte. 

I will now give you some general specimen of the information 
which you may derive from the work of Dalrymple. I will endeav- 
our to exhibit to you their references to a few of the more striking 
particulars of the reign. It appears from these papers, that Charles 
made a treaty with the French king, to which only the Roman Cathohc 
part of the Cabal were privy, — Lord Arlington and Lord CUfford, — 
not Shaftesbury, Buckingham, and Lauderdale. Charles was to get 
X 200,000 for declaring himself a Roman Catholic, was to receive 
.£800,000 per annum during the Dutch war, and was to be assisted 
with troops, if his subjects rebelled, which was called being " engaged 
in domestic wars." But as Louis meant only to seize upon the Low 
Countries and destroy Holland, and cared not for Charles or his con- 
cerns any further than they could be made subservient to his own, it 
was next the effort of the French ministry to persuade Charles to be- 
gin mth a war in Holland, and to postpone his domestic plans till the 
successful termination of the enterprise on the Continent. This du- 
plicity the Duke of York saw through, and remonstrated, but in vain. 
The Duchess of Orleans was sent over by Louis with a French mis- 
tress, and it Avas soon agreed by Charles that the treaty should be 
executed in the order that the French monarch wished, — that is, 
that Holland should be destroyed in the first place. 

A second treaty was then concluded, to which the Protestant part 
of the Cabal were made privy, though they had not been to the first 
treaty. The second was to the same purport as the first, but with 
one important omission, — the king's intentions with respect to the 



CHARLES THE SECOND. 313 

Roman Catholic religion. This last treaty, whenever alluded to by 
the king and the duke in their communications with each other, went 
under the name of the Sham Treaty ; and Buckingham and Shaftes- 
bury, who thought themselves, no doubt, the first men of talents at 
the time, were, on this occasion, as they knew nothing of the first 
treaty, the dupes of their sovereign. 

The reasonings on which the king and the French ambassador pro- 
ceeded are curious. " Tell your people," says Barillon* (p. 68), 
" that you will get their trade from the Dutch," who were represent- 
ed as insatiably gi-eedy ; "the merchants will be satisfied with this 
commercial reason ; your brave officers and soldiers will be occupied 
in the war with Holland ; the sectaries will be in good humor with 
you, for the toleration you are to grant them ; your Council are al- 
readj^ committed ; they will do their duty to you ; they will keep 
those of the Parliament to it with whom they have credit ; you may 
then, in the midst of a successful war with Holland, declare yourself 
a Catholic, there will be no grounds to fear," &c., &c. 

But, in the midst of all these plots and projects, the Prince of 
Orange came over from Holland, probably to make out what was the 
meaning of the late visit from the Duchess of Orleans, the journeys 
of Buckingham to Paris, &c., &c. The Prince of Orange, after- 
wards William the Third, was therefore now to be practised upon ; 
but the French ambassador writes to Louis, that Charles " finds him 
so passionate a Dutchman and Protestant," that notliing could be 
made of him. 

And now begins a pleasant consultation, wliether the Parliament 
should be assembled. " No," says the Duke of Buckingham ; " No," 
says the Duke of York ; " do not call them till we are successful in 
Holland, and till we can obtain by force what we cannot by mild- 
ness."— p. 80. 

We have next notifications from the French ambassador to Louis 
of the manner in which he had disposed of what he calls " the marks 
of the king's esteem and distinction," — that is, the French bribes to 
Charles's ministers. And in this manner, it seems, were to be in- 
trigued away, for the gratification of the profligacy of one monarch 
and the ambition of another, the liberties of England and the ex- 
istence of the republic of Holland. 

You will now, I conceive, be fully enabled to comprehend the gen- 
eral tenor of these original documents, and their connections with the 
history of the reign. The transactions of the reign, as I have al- 
ready observed, I cannot further allude to ; and such extracts as I 

* Tlie French ambassador at this period was Colbert, and the reasoning: here 
adduced is quoted (quite loosely, however) fi-om his "Eelation of what was said by 
him to the King of England in the Conference of tlie 28th Sept., 1670." Barillon 
does not appeal- to have been ambassador till seven years aftenvards. See Ualrym- 
ple's ]\Iemoirs of Great Britain and Ireland (New Edition, London, 1790), Vol. i. pp. 
107 -112; also, p. 152. — N. 

40 A A 



314 LECTURE XVIII. 

have given, and such references as I have made to different books 
and papers, must be considered as the only alkisions I can make to 
the particulars of the reign after the disgrace of Clarendon, and be- 
fore Lord Shaftesbury and the exclusionists claim our attention. But 
there is one transaction so remarkable, that I may select it from the 
rest, and allude to it more distinctly : this is the king's Declaration 
on Ecclesiastical Affairs, — the Declaration that brought the struggle 
between Charles the Second and the virtuous part of the Parliament 
and nation to a sort of crisis. After alluding to this singular affair, 
and once more to a few passages in Barillon's despatches, I shall 
conclude. 

It is probable that Charles cared as little for what Louis called his 
glory as Louis did for Charles's authority over his subjects. But 
Charles hated the Dutch, and he hated his Parliaments, as he did 
every thing that was an impediment to his own vicious indulgences ; 
so he was sincerely desirous to be arbitrary, that he might have 
money without either the trouble of asking for it or the inconvenience 
of accounting for it. Depending, therefore, on the assistance of 
Louis and his own ministry, he hesitated not to undertake the estab- 
lishment of a regular system of arbitrary power ; and he began by 
publishing a Declaration of Indulgence to Nonconformists. It is now 
very important to observe the conduct of the House of Commons on 
this occasion. We cannot but be taught how necessary it is for that 
House, and for all Enghshmen, to be scrupulously faithful to the 
great principles of the constitution, whenever they appear to be in 
the least disturbed. 

The king's Declaration proposed to do only Avhat every humane 
and intelligent man would wish to have done, — to extend rehef to 
Nonconformists, to dispense occasionally with the penal statutes that 
operated so severely against them. The king, however, made use of 
the following expressions in his Declaration of Indulgence : — that 
he had a " supreme power in ecclesiastical matters," and that he 
" suspended the penal laws, in matters ecclesiastical, against what- 
ever sort of Nonconformists " ; and in his speech to the Parliament, 
that " he should take it very ill to receive contradiction in what he 
had done, and that, to deal plainly with them, he was resolved to 
stick to his Declaration." 

Such were the words of the king. But, said a member of the 
House of Commons, " if the king can dispense with all jpewaZ laws, 
he may dispense with all laws." And finally, the Parliament, in an 
address to the king, represented to his Majesty, in short, ''' that penal 
statutes, in matters ecclesiastical, could not be suspended but by act 
of Parhament." The king and the House of Commons were there- 
fore at issue. 

The king in his answer declared, " that he was very much troubled 
to find his power was questioned ; that this had not been done in the 



CHARLES THE SECOND. 315 

reigns of any of his ancestors ; that he did not pretend to the 
right of suspending any laws, wherein the properties, rights, or liber- 
ties of any of his subjects were concerned, but to take off the penal- 
ties the statutes inflicted upon the Dissenters ; nor did he preclude 
the advice of his Parliament." 

These softening expressions were suiEcient to satisfy many of the 
members of the House, but the major and sounder part were not so 
to be appeased, and the House returned to the charge. They rep- 
resented to his Majesty, " that his answer was not sufficient to clear 
their apprehensions ; that his Majesty had claimed a power which, if 
admitted, would alter the legislative power, which had always been 
acknowledged to reside in his Majesty and the two houses of Parlia- 
ment." The parties were therefore still at issue. 

Besides his usual guards, the king had an army encamped at 
Blackheath, under the command of Marshal Schomberg ; and the 
French king, it may be remembered, had stipulated to afford assist 
ance, if force became requisite. Here, then, was a crisis truly awful ; 
and as the connection between the French court and Charles could 
not but have been observed (for the arms of England were visibly 
combined in the most unnatural manner with those of France against 
the independence of Holland), this crisis must have been sufficiently 
understood by all the intelligent and virtuous part of the community, 
— that is, by all those who did not wilfully suffer themselves to be 
blinded by some base interest of their owii, or some stupid principle 
of general confidence. 

In this situation the king applied to the House of Lords, and the 
Lords did not, as Hume and other writers represent, take the part of 
the Commons against the king, for they received his Majesty's com- 
munication very favorably ; and the king replied to their address in 
the following manner : — " My Lords, I take this address of yours 
very kindly, and will always be affectionate to you ; and I expect 
that you shall stand by me, as I will always by you." But notwith- 
standing this disgraceful alliance, offensive and defensive, it appears 
that thirty peers (and this shows the importance of virtuous minor- 
ities) had protested against the courtly address of the House ; and 
though Lord Clifford, one of the Cabal, had made a furious speech 
against the Commons, and though Lord Shaftesbury had done every 
thing for the court that they could wash, as far as the Dutch w\ar was 
concerned, (having made a speech, in his character of chancellor, 
with which he was reproached to his last hour,) still, Avhen the whole 
cause in which he had so seriously engaged came to the last critical 
turn, this very Shaftesbury, to the astonishment of the whole House, 
and of the Duke of York and the king, who were present, rose up 
in his place and declared, " that he differed toto coelo from his col- 
league ; that he submitted his reason to the House of Commons, so 
loyal and affectionate," &c., &c. And the Lords, on their meeting 



316 LECTURE XVIII. 

the next day, and not before, thought proper to do no more than 
thank the king for " referring the points now controverted to a Par- 
liamentary way by bill, that being a good and natural course for 
satisfaction therein." In the result, the king very wisely broke the 
seals of the Declaration, appeased the House of Commons, and gave 
way. 

It is a curious point in history to determine what could induce 
Shaftesbury to make this most fortunate, but most unexpected turn. 
Hume does not appear to have considered the conduct of this power- 
ful man, on this great occasion, with sufficient attention. In Uke 
manner, it is not readily ascertained why Charles did not persevere. 
It may, however, be made out from Dalrymple, and other sources, 
that Arlington betrayed the secret of the first treaty to Shaftesbury, 
and that Shaftesbury must thus have seen that he had been deceived 
by the king. It appears, too, that the Commons had severely ques- 
tioned (which, again, shows the importance of constitutional jealousy) 
Shaftesbury's illegal proceedings, as chancellor, with respect to the 
writs of election, and that this had alarmed him. Finally, there is 
exhibited in Dalrymple proof of a very remarkable interference of 
France, and a letter from the ambassador to Louis, to inform him 
that he had prevailed with Charles to recall his Declaration of In- 
dulgence. 

" The king's speech," says the French ambassador's letter to his 
court, " was followed with cries and acclamations of joy from the 
whole Parliament." " The whole people," he continues, " who were 
already greatly alarmed with the apprehension of a civil war, made 
bonfires in every street, upon this happy reconciliation of the king 
and Parliament." 

But it was not by such honest effusions, such affecting indications 
of the wish of the people, if possible, to be on terms of kindness with 
their sovereign, that the conduct of this detestable monarch was to be 
influenced ; and we see through the remainder of Dalrymple's Me- 
moirs the same base and unprincipled conspiracy carried on against 
the liberties of mankind, and the same senseless disregard, both in 
Charles and the renowned Louis, of every thing that could form the 
proper glory and honor of their reigns. 

It is not, however, without the most heartfelt triumph that we 
observe, in this instance at least, the abominable machinations of the 
king and his ministers and the French court dissipated and destroyed 
by the steady integrity and constitutional proceedings of an English 
House of Commons ; and that we see, also, the Dutch republic, 
though astonished, borne down, and evidently now at the last gasp, 
rescued at length from slavery and annihilation by the generous 
despair of its citizens and the heroic patriotism of the Prince of 
Orange. 

This most slight and imperfect sketch of a particular, though most 



CHARLES THE SECOND. 317 

important, transaction may serve to give some general intimation of 
what may be expected from a study of the reign of Charles ; and it 
may give you also some notion of the assistance that may be derived 
from these papers. But if any thing can attach us more to the con- 
stitution of our country, and explain to us more particularly the 
value of the rights and the importance of the duties of the House of 
Commons, it is this reign, and it is these Memoirs of Dalrymple. 
The king was ready, if necessary, to destroy the constitution rather 
than be thwarted ; the presumptive heir of the crown had no dearer 
wish ; the people were prepared for subjection by the horrors which 
they had lately seen result from resistance to the crown ; no impedi- 
ment was opposed but the Parliament, or rather the House of Com- 
mons ; the House itself was suffered to continue for eighteen years ; 
a great portion of its members were practised upon ; a large number 
of them notoriously bribed; — still the king neither did nor could suc- 
ceed in his nefarious enterprises ; and the patriotic leaders never en- 
tirely lost the cause of the constitution, till, on the dissolution of Par- 
hament and on their being left Avithout the means of constitutional re- 
sistance, they turned their thoughts to open insurrection, — to open 
insurrection, though the people had taken part against them, and 
clearly ranged themselves on the side of the sovereign. 

I shall conclude this lecture with observing, that, through the whole 
of these Memoirs, it is quite gratifying to observe the manner in which 
the French ambassador and the English negotiators speak and reason 
about the Parliament. When that enemy is once secured, all is sup- 
posed to be safe. In addition to the passages already mentioned, ex- 
pressions of this kind occur: — 

Page 80. — " I found the Duke of York," says Barillon,* " in the 
same sentiments with the Duke of Buckingham with regard to the 

meeting of the Parliament, having told me of himself, that, 

if his advice was followed, they would be very cautious of assem- 
bhng it." 

Page 99. — "The king has agreed [Sept. 1674] either to pro- 
rogue his Parliament till April, 1675, in consideration of five hundred 
thousand cro-wms ; or, if he convenes it in November, to dissolve it, 
in case it should refuse to give him money, in consideration of which 
he is to have a pension of one hundred thousand pounds from 
France." All this, it seems, was to enable France to carry on the 
Avar, undisturbed by the English Parliament. 

Page 105. — " The king of England having convened the Duke 
of York, the Duke of Lauderdale, and the high treasurer [Danby], 
to confer with them upon the paper which your Majesty knoAVS of, 

* Not Barillon, but Colbert ; " Monsieur Colbert represents the Duke of York's senti- 
ments in the followins: words : ' I found,'" &c. Dalrymple (new ed., 1790), I. 122. — 
f If the cxtraets wliicli follow, only tlic hist two arc from Barillon; the others are taken 
from despatches of Bouvigny and Courtin. Ibid., 140, 143, 150, 316, and 354. — N. 

AA* 



818 LECTURE XVIIl. 

this last minister asked time to examine it before he gave his opinion 

upon it In fine, the treasurer has been to see the Duke of 

Lauderdale, to whom he has represented the risk they should run of 
losing their heads, if they alone were to dehberate upon the treaty, 

and to sign it Sire, your Majesty may well see by all that 

has passed in this afikir, that the king of England is in a manner 
abandoned by his ministers, even the most confidential. The treas- 

ui*er fears the Parliament much more than his master It will 

be difficult to conceive that a king should be so abandoned by his 

subjects The Parliaments are to be feared, and it is a kind 

of miracle to see a king, without arms and money, resist them so 
long." 

Page 112. — " The Endish kinsi; insists for eight hundred thou- 

. t -r\ 

sand crowns, in consideration of which he offers to prorogue the Par- 
liament." 

Page 235. — " The king of England tells me that it is time your 
Majesty should take a resolution, and determine yourself to assist 
liim with a sum of money which might put him in a condition not to 

receive law from his subjects I took this occasion to beg his 

Britannic Majesty to explain his intentions with regard to the sitting 
of Parliament," &c., &c. The king, it seems, answered, that he had 
dissolved the last Parliament, and could put off the meeting of a new 
one till he could judge of its dispositions to him ; but that he could 
not entirely dispense with them, because he could not hope that the 
French king would furnish all the sums necessary to support him long 
without their assistance. " I told him," says Barillon, " that the 
meetings of Parliament always appeared to me very dangerous," 
&c., &c. 

In another place, Barillon observes, — " What I write to your 
Majesty will appear, without doubt, very extraordinary ; but England 
has no resemblance to other countries." Happy was it for England 
that this was the case ; and long may unprincipled men like these find 
every thing to surprise them in its virtuous people and in its free 
constitution ! 



CHARLES THE SECOND. 319 

LECTURE XIX. 

CHARLES THE SECOND. 

In my last lecture, after calling your attention to the earlier part 
of the reign of Charles the Second, while the measures of his gov- 
ernment were directed by Clarendon, I endeavoured to give you 
some general notion of the second part of the same reign, and more 
particularly of the information that might be collected respecting it 
from different publications, and above all from the papers of Dai- 
ry mple. 

This second part of his reign is marked by the constitutional 
struggle between Charles and the patriotic party, and may itself be 
divided into two parts. 

During this first part of the struggle, that to which I have already 
referred, not only were the liberties of this country in a state of the 
most extreme peril, but, in consequence of the ambition of Louis the 
Fourteenth and liis connection with Charles, the liberties of Holland 
also, and the interests of all Europe. 

I must now allude to what I consider as the remaining part of this 
contest between Charles and the friends of ci\dl freedom, when the 
patriotic leaders had to contend, not only with the king, but also with 
the Duke of York, and when, on account of the arbitrary nature of 
the religion of the latter, they were at last driven to the resolution 
of endeavouring to exclude him from the throne. 

During the first period of their contest with the crown, the patri- 
otic leaders must be considered as successful. The king, we may 
remember, broke the seals of his Declaration and gave way. But 
during this second period, the event was otherwise ; the king could 
neither be persuaded nor intimidated into any compliance with the 
•wishes of his opponents ; and the struggle ended at length in the ex- 
ecution of some of their leaders, and in the ruin of all. 

Whatever difference of opinion there may be respecting their in- 
tentions and conduct during this latter period (during their struggle 
with the king on the subject of the exclusion of the Duke of York 
from the throne), there can be none respecting the merit of their ex- 
ertions during the former period. Had the king then succeeded, the 
liberties of England might have perished. 

On the whole, the contest by which the reign of Charles the Sec- 
ond is distinguished can be considered as inferior in interest and im- 
portance only to that which immediately preceded it, during the era 
of the Great Rebellion ; and such was the necessity of resistance to 
the son, as well as to the father, that the same Englishmen who have 



320 LECTURE XIX. 

loved and revered the memory of Hampden have never ceased to 
venerate the virtue and respect the patriotism of Sidney and Lord 
Russell. 

The regular historians will give you the detail of the transactions 
by which this period is rendered so memorable. But you must by 
all means continue your study of the Memoirs of Dalrymple, which 
contain very curious information, and will give you very important 
hints respecting the characters and views of the Duke of York, the 
king, and the popular leaders. I had originally made large extracts 
to exemplify what I say, but I omit them, and depend on your con- 
sulting such original documents as I have mentioned, yourselves. 

As far as principle is concerned, it is the duke, not Charles, who 
appears to be the man of principle ; it is he who is a bigot to his 
opinions, religious and political, — to Popery and arbitrary power. 
These, with Charles, were rather the instruments than the objects of 
his designs ; but the duke really had opinions that were dear to him ; 
and he thoroughly and from his heart did detest and abjure all men, 
principles, and parties that presumed to interfere with the powers 
that be, either in church or state. 

When the duke speaks of the proceedings of Parliament (p. 174), 
his expressions are, — " His Majesty was forced to prorogue them ; 
and now they are to meet again on Thursday, and I fear they Avill be 

very disorderly Should we have been engaged in a war now, 

they would have so imposed upon the king as to leave him nothing 
but the empty name of a king, and no more power than a duke of 
Venice." 

He and the king had now to meet the due punishment of their 
conduct, the just consequences of their conspiracies against the laws 
and constitution of their country ; and their perplexities and anx- 
ieties can be no proper subject of the slightest sympathy or compas- 
sion. 

But questions like those comprehended in the Exclusion Bill 
(whether the regular and presumptive heir shall or shall not ascend 
the throne) must always be considered as the greatest calamities that 
can befall a nation ; and their very agitation is a complete proof of 
criminality having existed somewhere, — either in those who have 
administered the government, or in those who are opposed to them, 
and generally in the former. 

Nothing can be more easy, and nothing can be more true, than to 
say, that, all government being intended for the good of the whole, 
the community have a right to deviate from the line of succession 
when the presumptive heir is a just subject of their apprehension. 
But what, in the mean time, are to be the sentiments of the existing 
government and of that presumptive heir ? What sort of acquies- 
cence or degree of patriotism is to be expected from them ? It is in 
vain to suppose that questions of this tremendous nature can be de- 



CHARLES THE SECOND. 321 

cided bj the mere reasonableness of the case, or either settled or dis- 
cussed without imminent hazard to the peace and prosperity of the 
country. 

The popular leaders contended for the exercise of this great right 
of society, for entire exclusion ; the king proposed the most reasona- 
ble limitations ; the question was, therefore, rendered as fit a subject 
for debate as it could possibly become ; and as there were men of the 
greatest ability in the Houses, no proceedings in Parliament can be 
more interesting than these must always be to every Englishman who 
has reflected upon the critical nature of our own mixed and of all 
mixed governments. 

On whatever side the question could be viewed, the difficulties 
were very great. The popular part of the constitution was almost as 
much asserted by the limitations as by the exclusion, since the right 
of the community to interfere and control the executive power was 
acknowledged in either case. In argument, however, the exclusion- 
ists had the advantage over those who were contented with limita- 
tions, because their measure was evidently in practice the only com- 
plete remedy for the evil supposed, and the only remedy which could 
provide at the same time (a most material consideration) for the 
safety of those who were to administer it. Still, it was, on the whole, 
impossible that the exclusion should be carried while the king proposed 
limitations. 

The character of the king led the exclusionists to suppose, that, if 
they remained firm, he would give way. This was their great poUti- 
cal mistake. For once in his life, as the point of duty was at least 
dubious, he was steady to his supposed principle ; he kept his word. 
Had the exclusionists turned short, and accepted his limitations, he 
had been indeed embarrassed. 

It is now clear, from Dalrymple and Macpherson, that not only 
the Duke of York reprobated the scheme of Hmitations, but that the 
king liimself was not sincere in his offers ; and this must, indeed, have 
been suspected by the popular leaders. But the truth is, that their 
cause, as it could not be carried without the full cooperation of the 
public, was from the first not a little hopeless. The nation had but 
just escaped from all the sufferings of civil war, — from anarchy, 
usurpation, and military despotism ; it is naturally, from the general 
sobriety of its habits both of speculation and conduct, dutiful and 
loyal ; is always very properly attached to the hereditary nature of 
the monarchy ; nor is it ever the natural turn of men, more especially 
of bodies of men, or of a whole nation, to provide against future 
evils by extraordinary expedients, in themselves a sort of evil, in 
themselves exposed to objection, and in every respect difficult and 
disagreeable. The conduct, therefore, to be pursued by the king 
was plain, and the result much what might have been expected. He 
kept at issue with his Parhaments, making to them reasonable, though 
41 



322 LECTURE XIX. 

not sincere offers, and addressing them with temper and dignity ; till 
at last the public, as will always be the case when there is a proper 
exercise of skill and prudence on the part of the sovereign, sided 
■\vith him, and left the constitution (as usual) to its fate, and the pa- 
triots to their fortunes. 

This is a very curious part of our history, and should be attentive- 
ly considered. The king, having dissolved two Parliaments rapidly, 
issued a Declaration, which was made pubhc and read in the church- 
es. It contained the defence of his conduct, and his appeal to the 
people. It is given only in substance by the historians ; in Kennet, 
however, the words of it appear. It is very improperly omitted by 
Cobbett. All the material parts are given, in the words of it, by the 
historian Ralph. 

A very full and spirited reply was drawn up by the leaders of the 
House of Commons, chiefly by Sir Wilham Jones, under whose name 
it was published, and who was one of the most distinguished lawyers 
and speakers of the time. The substance of this reply is in Ralph ; 
but the whole of it is in the appendix of Cobbett. It is long, and 
some parts of it may be read more slightly than others ; but it is in 
general highly deserving of attention, not only because it is necessary 
to the explanation of the great constitutional questions then before 
the public, but because it shows that the notions of intelligent men 
with regard to the constitution itself were very fully adjusted be- 
fore the Revolution in 1688, and were, at that great epoch, rather 
confirmed than altered or improved. 

But the reasonings of Sir WiUiam Jones were of no effect. " The 
king," says the historian Ralph (Vol. i. p. 589), " had the advan- 
tage of the dispute. His condescending to appeal to his people sof- 
tened their hearts, if it did not convince their understandings ; he 
appeared to be an object of compassion ; he appeared to have been 
all this while on the defensive. The offers he had made were thought 
more weighty than his adversaries' objections. In short, he was no 
sooner pitied than he was believed ; and, above all, the artful turn 
given in his Declaration to the Commons' vote in favor of the Non- 
conformists drew in all the clergy and their followers to his side in a 
body. The cry of ' Church and king' was again renewed, was 
echoed from one end of the kingdom to the other ; and, as if it was a 
charm to debase the spirit and cloud the understanding, produced," 
says the historian, " such a train of detestable flatteries to the throne, 
mingled with so many flagrant proofs of a sordid disposition to enter 
into a voluntary vassalage, as might very reasonably make an Eng- 
lishman blush for his country while he read them, and would have 
made a Roman or a Spartan exclaim, ' The gods created these bar- 
barians to be slaves.' " 

The address of our own University on this occasion may be seen 
in Ralph, and the anathemas of the sister University two years after- 



CHARLES THE SECOND. 323 

wards, in Rapin or Kennet. At Cambridge they were tolerably 
satisfied, when thej had laid down, witli due earnestness, first, the 
merits of the king (that is, of Charles the Second), and then the 
doctrine of passive obedience. But at Oxford the tenets of loyalty 
were announced in a far more effectual manner; a "judgment and 
decree passed against certain pernicious books and damnable doc- 
trines, destructive to the sacred persons of princes, their state and 
government, and of all human society " ; certain propositions are pro- 
duced, — some few of the twenty-seven that are brought forward, no 
doubt, to be reprobated, and some few despised, but many of them 
the common political maxims of the Whigs ; the compact, &c. ; but 
all and every one of them were now pronounced " to be false, sedi- 
tious, and impious, and most of them to be also heretical and blas- 
phemous," &c., &c. The members of the University are to be inter- 
dicted from reading the books containing them ; the books them- 
selves to be publicly burnt, &c., &c. 

" And noAv the flood-gates of loyalty being opened," says Ralph 

(p. 592), "the gazettes from the middle of May to the 

January following," that is, from the publication of the Declaration, 
" are little more than a collection of testimonies that the people were 
weary of all those rights and privileges that make subjection safe and 
honorable." Quotations, to show the folly of some, the prostitution 
of all, would be endless ; and at last it seems even Lord Halifax, the 
minister, turned squeamish, and grew sick of them. 

Whatever difficulty may belong to the question of the Exclusion 
Bill, and whether it might or might not have been necessary at the 
time, still, if we consider what had long been the known characters 
of Charles and James, the licentiousness of the court, its connection 
with France (which had been publicly proved in the course of Dan- 
by's impeachment), its measures through the whole of the reign, and 
the idea then entertained of the deadliness of the sin of Popery, it 
must be confessed that the manner in which the community totally 
deserted the leaders of the House of Commons on this occasion was 
not very creditable to the national character. The result was a new 
temptation to the political virtues of the king, in which, as usual, he 
failed. Instead of justifying the unbounded and headlong attach- 
ment of his people, l)y showing in his turn a due care and veneration 
for their constitutional rights, a dishonest advantage was taken of 
their blind partiality, and the administration of the government be- 
came, in every point, as arbitrar}^ and unprincipled as brutal judges, 
dishonorable magistrates, and wicked ministers, under the patronage 
and protection of the court, could possibly render it. 

And then commenced, in like manner, the temptation of the popu- 
lar leaders ; they had been defeated, — what were they to do ? The 
measures of the court were detestable ; this must be allowed. The 
constitution of England seemed to be, certainly for a season, perhaps 



324 LECTURE XIX. 

for ever, at an end. Charles might hve long, or, as James the 
Second was to succeed, the violations of the law might by prescrip- 
tion become the law. All this was true, and might very naturally 
affect the popular leaders with sentiments of the deepest mortification 
and sorrow ; more especially as they saw that the public had aban- 
doned them, and, with some few exceptions, everywhere continued to 
abandon them. But what, then, was the effect produced on the 
minds of the patriotic leaders ? Instead of reflecting how capricious 
a master they served, when the public was that master, — how prone 
to run into extremes, how easily deceived, how little either able or 
disposed to take care of itself, how pardonable in its follies because 
always honest in its intentions, — instead of meditating on topics so 
obvious as these, most of the popular leaders, particularly Shaftesbury, 
seemed to have lost on this occasion all temper and prudence, and to 
have thought of nothing but an insurrection and force, — an insur- 
rection which was called for only by the rabble in London, — force, 
which can never be justified, even with right, but under the strongest 
assurance of success. 

And in this manner are we conducted to the last important trans- 
action of the reign, known under the general name of the Ryehouse 
Plot, — a plot, as it was supposed, of the patriotic leaders against 
the king. It appears, however, to have been rather a treasonable 
plot and insurrection intended by the lower and more desperate 
members of the party, and countenanced by Shaftesbury, than a 
regular project formed by the whole party, the more respectable 
leaders included. 

Bu.t these machinations, however various their description, were 
fatal to many who were connected with them ; — they were fatal to 
Algernon Sidney and Lord Russell. These distinguished men were 
tried for treason, and found guilty, — with what propriety I cannot 
now discuss. Sidney marched to the scaffold as to a victory, display- 
ing at his execvition, as on his trial, all the bold and sublime traits of 
the republican character: the steady step, the serene eye, the un- 
troubled pulse, the unabated resolve, " the unconquerable mind, and 
freedom's holy flame " ; the memory, that still lingered with delight 
on the good old cause, as he termed it, for which he was to shed his 
blood ; the imagination, that, even in the moments of death, disdain- 
ful alike of the government, its judges, its indictments, and its exe- 
cutioners, soared away to some loftier code of justice and of right, and 
hung enamoured on its own more splendid visions of equality and 
freedom. 

The spectators presumed not to shed tears in the presence of Sid- 
ney, but their tears had bedewed the scaffold of Lord Russell ; Lord 
Russell, the amiable and the good ; the husband, Avith whom the bit- 
terness of death was past when the partner of his bosom had looked 
her last farewell ; the friend, whom the faithful Cavendish would have 



CHARLES THE SECOND. 325 

died to save; the lover of truth, the lover of England; the patriot, 
who had labored to assert, not change, her constitution ; filled with 
no images of liberty, as Sidney had been, drawn from the imperfect 
models of Greece and Rome, but intent on a monarchy restrained by 
popular freedom, and on popular freedom civilized by a monarchy ; 
imprudent, rather than criminal ; a memorable instance to show that 
they who would serve their country are not to mix their own good in- 
tentions and virtuous characters with those of men of doubtful princi- 
ples, irregular and violent in their spirit, — men whom it is idle for 
them to suppose they can long control, and whose faults they may 
discern clearly, but by no means their ultimate designs. 

Such was the termination of the struggle between prerogative and 
privilege, which, after all the horrors of the Civil War, it is most 
afflicting and mortifying to observe, had, in the first place, once more 
to be renewed during the reign of the restored monarch, and, in the 
second, to terminate entirely against the patriotic cause. 

I now consider myself as having arrived at the close of the reign of 
Charles. But I have passed by many transactions, both curious and 
important, not only because they were too numerous to mention, but 
because I was unwilling to have your attention withdrawn for a mo- 
ment from the great subject of the reign, — the resistance of the 
popular leaders to Charles, and more especially the measure of the 
Exclusion Bill. Those transactions omitted by me — the bribes re- 
ceived, as appears from Dalrymple, by the popular leaders, the Ha- 
beas Corpus Act, the Test Act, the Popish Plot — must be well ob- 
served by you. I will say a Avord on the last. This most extraordi- 
nary afiair may reasonably excite the curiosity, but will in vain exer- 
cise the inquiries of the most laborious student. It was impossible at 
the time, it has been ever since impossible, properly to understand it, 
or many of the circumstances which so contributed to its success, — 
for instance. Sir Edmundbury Godfrey's murder. 

Instead of laboring to investigate what the fury of those times 
leaves us little chance of understanding, there is much remains which 
may be perfectly understood, and to which it may be far more im- 
portant for you to direct your reflections : I mean the consequences 
of the plot, the consequences of the alarm excited by this plot ; the 
rage, for instance, and stupidity of which a community are capable 
when their religious prejudices are worked upon ; the outrages that 
may be committed by judges, juries, and all the regular authorities 
of a state, the moment that the great maxims and established forms 
of equity and law are dispensed with ; the melancholy excesses of in- 
justice, cruelty, and absurdity, that in times of public alarm may 
disgrace the most civilized society. 

AVlien the more enlightened part of a nation share, for a time, the 
same violence of prejudice or terror which more naturally belongs to 
the blind and precipitate passions of the populace, they themselves 

BB 



326 LECTURE XIX. 

become populace, — like the very mob, senseless and ferocious, — 
and are actually not to be appeased without the shedding of blood. 
Lord Staiford and others, supposed conspirators in this Popish plot, 
were therefore formally murdered. The king durst not interpose, 
nor Avas he of a temper to disturb his own security in the cause of 
insulted humanity. It is here that is to be found the unpardonable 
violence, the criminality, of the popular leaders. The penetrating 
Shaftesbury becomes either an atrocious statesman, or a blind and 
vulgar demagogue ; and even the amiable and virtuous Russell is, for 
a season, no longer to be loved. 

The historian Hume, the great chastiser of religious and party 
animosity, is not likely to desert his reader on an occasion like this ; 
and it only remains to treasure up his observations, and apply them 
to every similar instance (and instances will occur) of public infatua- 
tion and guilt. 

And now, before I turn away from this second part of the reign 
of Charles, and these private memoirs and original documents, I 
must remind you of an opinion entertained by some, to which I al- 
luded in my opening lecture, that history neither is nor can be truth, 
because it professes to give an account of transactions which can be 
understood only by the actors in the scene. I would wish you, there- 
fore, to consider once more these original papers of Dalrymple. Let 
them be compared with any of our historians, — for instance, with 
the judicious History of Ralph. Let the student, after he has by 
means of Dalrymple put himself into possession of the state secrets 
of the reign, turn to that History, which was written before this pub- 
lication, and observe what the historian has been able to perform 
without them. He will then find, as I conceive, that known facts 
and visible appearances are sufficient to enable a sensible man, with- 
out the assistance of these mysteries of office, to form just conclusions, 
and exhibit those general views which serve all the great and most 
useful purposes of history. Let him turn, in like manner, to Burnet. 
I alluded to the inferences to be drawn from his work in yesterday's 
lecture, and told you I should have to remind you of them. I do so 
now. The general conclusions which Ralph draws and which Burnet 
draws, and other historians have drawn, are the very conclusions 
which we draw ourselves, when, by means of the papers of Dalrym- 
ple and the private memoirs, we have become acquainted with all the 
wretched detail of these disgraceful intrigues. Listances like these 
(and it is for this purpose that I mention them) may teach us to de- 
pend upon all such general inferences as are fairly deduced from a 
sufficiently comprehensive exhibition of facts, explained and illustrat- 
ed by the acknowledged principles of human nature ; that is, to de- 
pend on diligence, candor, and sagacity, when exercised on the con- 
sideration of the affiiirs of the world ; that is, in other words, to 
depend on well written history. 



CHARLES THE SECOND. 327 

On the whole, then, to recapitulate what I have hitherto said, the 
struggle between the sovereign and the patriotic leaders is the great 
subject during the latter part of the reign ; the designs of Charles 
against the constitution, and his connections with Louis the Four- 
teenth, during the preceding part of the reign ; the settlement of the 
kingdom in church and state, under the administration of Clarendon, 
during the first part of the reign. 

Having now alluded to these, each in its order, I must, lastly, in- 
troduce my hearers to what I will call, for the sake of distinction, the 
moral part of the history of this period. 

All wars destroy the morals of mankind, by habituating them to 
refer every thing to force, and by necessitating them so often to dis- 
pense with the ordinary suggestions of sympathy and justice. But 
this is pecuUarly the effect of civil wars, where the moral obligations, 
before the contest, have been more completely established, and are 
yet, during the contest, with more than ordinary violence, torn asun- 
der. That regular occupation of the mind, amid the common pur- 
suits of life, — those peaceful habits of thought, which are so nutri- 
tive, so necessary, to most of the virtues of the human character, — 
all these, on occasions of civil war, are most materially disturbed, and 
even sometimes destroyed ; and the military virtues, high virtues no 
doubt, but which have always been found compatible with the great- 
est licentiousness, seem alone to survive. 

It is, therefore, probable that England, on the Restoration, would 
have exhibited these unhappy effects of the past disorders, under 
whatever circumstances the kingdom might have been placed. But 
still more unfortunately, to complete the general dissolution of man- 
ners after this event, the vanquished party, the Puritans and Presby- 
terians, had always been distinguished, not only, many of them, for 
the real exercise of the severer virtues, but most of them for a ridic- 
ulous affectation of a piety and perfection more than human. Men, 
always in extremes upon other occasions, were equally so on this ; 
and because the Puritans mistook the true nature of virtue and re- 
ligion, and rushed headlong in one direction, the Cavaliers could do 
no less than offend every reasonable precept of both, by hurrying 
away as violeiitly in the other ; because the most sacred and awful 
terms which our religion affords were used by the one party on the 
most unworthy occasions, and to purposes the most familiar, their op- 
ponents could do no better, it seems, than become scoffers at all re- 
ligion, and could find no substitute for cant, hypocrisy, and nonsense, 
but profaneness and infidelity. 

These great features of the times have not escaped the notice of 
our historians and moral writers. On this subject, I must refer you 
to their observations. I may, however, remark, that, if any of my 
hearers should become very conversant in the history and in the 
writings of this singular period, he will soon, as I conceive, be but 



328 LECTURE XIX. 

too conscious that tlie very actors in the scene often impart to it 
an unworthy cliarm, from the livehness of their licentiousness, from 
the variety, the brilliancy, the strength of their restless and striking 
characters. It is one, and not the least, of the many trials which 
virtue has to encounter, that she is liable to be seduced from her 
more tranquil, but happier path, by the imposing bustle, the enter- 
taining whims, the ever-changing, careless, animating revelry, which 
may generally be found in the haunts of her most fatal enemies. 

Such was the effect of the fascinating manners and specious quali- 
ties of Charles, that he was never hated or despised in the degree 
which he deserved. Even at this distance of time, we may not 
readily bring ourselves to entertain sentiments sufldciently severe 
against the king, the courtiers, and all the considerable personages 
that appeared during these critical times. The truth is, that this 
period was marked by a sort of conspiracy against all sobriety and 
order, against all liberty and law, against all dignity and happiness, 
public and private ; and we must not suffer our taste for pleasantry, 
and our admiration of shining talents, to betray us into a forgetfulness 
of every graver virtue which can seriously occupy our reflection or 
engage our respect. 

But I must be allowed to make one observation more, which I 
shall leave to your own examination. The writers on morals have 
always insisted, that vice has at least no advantage over virtue, but 
the contrary, even in this life. The period of history now before us 
is enlivened by the most striking and the most profligate characters, 
and will, as I conceive, abundantly illustrate this position, — a posi- 
tion certainly founded in nature and truth, and which no man ever 
acted upon — and repented. 

The Buckingham, for instance, of these times, the author of The 
Rehearsal, and the delight of the court, " the hfe of pleasure and the 
soul of whim," but the most unprincipled of men, was the Villiers of 
Pope, — the great Villiers, who, though he died not " in the worst 
inn's Avorst room," died " victor of his health, of fortune, friends, and 
fame," and well fitted " to point a moral or adorn a tale." 

Rochester, at the early age of three-and-thirty, when his talents 
miight have been ripening into strength, and his virtues into useful- 
ness, sunk into the grave amid the wild waste of his existence and 
his advantages, and discovered how mistaken had been his estimate 
of happiness, when it was too late. 

In a grander style of misconduct appears the celebrated Shaftes- 
bury. Of powers as universal as his ambition was unbounded, — the 
idol of the rabble at Wapping, the wit and man of fashion among the 
courtiers at Whitehall, and a statesman in the House of Lords, whom 
the king, after listening to him in a debate, pronounced fit to teach 
his bishops divinity and his judges law, — a minister, a patriot, a 
chancellor, and a demagogue,- — in whatever direction he moved, the 



CHARLES THE SECOND. 329 

man on whom all eyes were to be turned, — to whom nothing was 
wanting but virtue, — Shaftesbury died at last an exile from his 
country, seeking protection from that very republic of Holland which 
in the hour of his corruption and prosperity he had denounced ; 
towering with all the consciousness of genius, yet humiliated by the 
triumphs of opponents whom he must have despised even more than 
he hated, and no longer able to hope, as the scene for ever closed 
around him, either for the gratification of success, or the comforts 
(for such, to his unchastened mind, they would have been thought) 
of vengeance. 

Compare with the lives of these men the life of Sir William Tem- 
ple, — the man of cultivated mind, — the man of sense and humani- 
ty, — of civilized passions, and well-directed aims, — the philosopher 
and the statesman, appearing on the stage of public affairs only to be 
honored, retiring to the shade only to be more loved and applaud- 
ed, — the minister who could speak the language of patriotism and 
truth to his corrupted, dissembling sovereign, nor yet suffer himself, 
by disappointment at this sovereign's subsequent conduct, to be 
hurried into projects of dangerous experiment and doubtful ambition, 
— and who, on every occasion, converted all the advantages, which 
he had received from nature and from fortune, to their noblest pur- 
poses, the fair fame and happiness of himself, the honor of his coun- 
try, and the benefit of mankind. 

Take, again, an instance of virtue in a form more severe, and a|> 
parently less fitted for happiness, — the patriot Andrew JNIarvell. 
Of this man it is well known, that the treasurer Danby once made 
his way to his garret, and, under a proper disguise of courtly phra- 
seology, offered him a bribe. It was refused ; and this virtuous repre- 
sentative of the people, when he had turned away from the thousand 
pounds of the minister, was obliged to dine a second time on the dish 
of the former day, and borrow a guinea from his bookseller. But 
which of the two are we to envy ? 

" Count all the advantaiie prosperous vice attains, 
'T is but what virtue flies from and disdains." 

Pursue the same train of inquiry into the recesses of the cabinet. 
The king had deceived his ministry, the Cabal ; Arlington, one of 
them, betrayed the king. The Duke of York and the king had cajoled 
Shaftesbury ; and Shaftesbury, at the moment he was most wanted, 
turned short on his deceivers. Danby had preferred his place to his 
honor, and had committed himself to Montague. At that time they 
were friends ; soon after, enemies ; each wished the ruin of the other ; 
but the ambassador, Montague, was more adroit, and the treasurer 
Danby was lodged in the Tower. What friendsliip, what happiness, 
have we here among men like these ? 

The members of the Cabal gained little by their baseness but dis- 
grace and impeachments. Charles himself was occupied all his life 
42 BB* 



330 LECTURE XIX. 

in extracting money from Louis, and in deceiving him for that pur- 
pose ; but Louis was equally employed in deceiving Charles, and in 
carrying on counter intrigues with his subjects. Two years before 
his death, Charles came to the knowledge of all the French monarch's 
proceedings : he received, says Dalrymple, a yet more mortifying 
stroke ; he found that the court of France had been capable of in- 
tending (though the design was at last laid aside) to make public 
his secret negotiations with the Duchess of Orleans. What was the 
result ? Conscious that he could no longer be either respected or 
loved by the intelUgent part of his subjects, that he was distrusted 
and despised by every court in Europe, and that he had been all 
his life betrayed by the very prince to whom he had sold the im- 
mediate jewel of his soul, his secret chagrin became at length visible 
on his countenance, and for two years before his death, he had ceased 
to be the merry monarch who could laugh at the virtues and triumph 
in the vices of mankind. 

Charles, in the earlier part of his reign, had seen Clarendon stand 
before him the representative of English good sense and Enghsh good 
feehngs. He had been afterwards exhorted by Temple to be the man 
of his people ; for such a king, the patriot minister told him, (to use 
his own words,) " might in England be any thing, and otherwise 
nothing " ; but, from the first, Charles had traced out another path 
of happiness for himself, and in the event, as we may collect from 
the historians, he found he had judged but ill ; he is even understood 
to have formed serious resolutions of retracing, if possible, his steps, 
and of acting up to the model which had vainly been presented to his 
view. But life admits not of this neglect of opportunities : he was 
struck by the hand of death ; and what, then, is his history ? The 
liistory of a man of pleasure : a fine understanding converted to no 
useful purpose, and at last, as is always the case, not convertible to 
any ; the common feehngs of our nature corrupted into total selfish- 
ness by sensual indulgence ; the proper relish of the gratifications of 
our state worn down by abuse into a morbid indifference for every 
thing ; with no friendship that he thought sincere ; with no love that 
he did not hire ; without the genuine enjojonent of one social affec- 
tion, or of one intellectual endowment but his wit ; floating helplessly 
on from one amusement to another ; oppressed with the burden of 
time, yet ashamed of his expedients to get rid of it; — living and 
dying, Charles is the proper object of our indignation or contempt ; 
through life a conspii-ator against the liberties of his people, or a mere 
saunterer amid his courtiers and his mistresses ; and on his death-bed 
delivering himself over to his stupid brother and a Popish priest. 
Such is the history of Charles ; but what is there here which the 
meanest of his subjects could have to envy, — what to envy in the 
monarch, however he may be himself, in his humbler station, submit- 
ted to the tasks of daily labor, to the duties of self-denial, or the 
necessities of self-exertion ? 



CHARLES THE SECOND. 331 

But whatever may be our decision with respect to the great posi- 
tion of the moraUsts, — that vice has no advantage even in this 
world, but the contrary, — it must at least be admitted, that men 
like these, whether or not they procure happiness for themselves, un- 
doubtedly produce misery to every one around them ; in ])rivate life 
they injure, distress, or corrupt whatever is within their influence, 
and in public they are yet more injurious to society, by disposing of 
their talents and integrity, under some form or other, to the best 
bidder. 

Some idea of the effect which such men produce on society may be 
derived from the dramatic representations in the reign of Charles ; 
compositions which, therefore, form a part of its history. 

" The wits of Charles found easier ways to fame, 
Nor wished for Jonson's art or Shakspearc's flame : 
Themselves they studied ; as they felt, they writ : 
Intrigue was plot, obscenity was wit." 

If such were the dramas, what were the audience ? If such was the 
picture of life, as it was then understood, what was, and what had 
been, the influence of the higher orders ? 

In an age of such depravdty, the great minister Clarendon was not 
unconscious of what was due to his sovereign, to his country, or to 
his own character ; and he resisted, by every effort in his power, the 
immoralities of his master, and the licentiousness of the court. His 
gravity, as it was called, was the great object at which the ridicule 
of Buckingham and the wits was eternally levelled ; but the chancel- 
lor was of a temperament too dignified to be faced out of his princi- 
ples either by the frowns of the king or the grimaces of his com- 
panions. He would never suffer his wife to visit the Lady, as he calls 
her, that is, the king's mistress ; and he continued, as he began, the 
champion of the ordinary duties of life. 

In our own times, the great upholder of the domestic virtues has 
been, not any particular minister, but the monarch himself, — George 
the Third. To whatever variety of criticism a reign like his, so long 
and so eventful, may be hereafter exposed, this praise, this solid 
praise, will never be denied him ; and it will remain, while the story 
of England remains, an honor to his memory. His people, in the 
mean time, have never been backward in acknowledging their obliga- 
tion. His conduct in this respect has always been the theme of their 
loud and just panegyric ; and they have never ceased to look up to 
tlic throne, not only with sentiments of loyalty to the high ofiice, but 
with feelings of gratitude and respect for the person of their sov- 
ereign. 

Among many other amusing, rather than improving, works con- 
nected with the reign of Charles the Second, must be particularized 
the jNIemoirs of the Comte de Gramraont, written by one of the 
Hamiltons. The narrative and the pleasantry are aii-y and elegant, 



332 LECTURE XIX. 

often reminding us of the manner of Voltaire ; and the work may be 
read, as giving a picture of the court and courtiers of Charles, drawn 
from the life, telling their own story in their own way, and therefore 
containing not only a dehneation of their intrigues, occupations, and 
pleasures, but of their modes of reasoning and thinking, and the 
sympathies and principles, such as they were, upon which this licen- 
tious and but too entertaining part of society at that time proceeded. 
Courage seems to have been their only virtue, liveliness their only 
merit, — the manners of Chesterfield, and the morals of Rochefou- 
cauld. 

An exhibition of the feelings and reasonings of the king and his 
courtiers on the graver subjects of national policy may be found in 
the poems of Dry den ; the powerful advocate of any and of every 
cause, whose affluent mind and pregnant fancy were never without 
an argument and an image, whatever might be the topic either of his 
poetry or his prose ; worthy to be the assertor of the best interests 
of mankind, and sometimes enforcing them with the most enviable 
spirit and success ; the master of a lyre, no doubt, whose song can 
never die, — whose numbers are always easy, airy, and melodious, — 
often breaking away into passages of the most striking vigor, and 
sometimes kindling into flashes of the most genuine sublimity ; yet a 
poet, it must at the same time be confessed, whose compositions are 
often debased by coarseness and disfigured by extravagance, and who 
was ready, when occasion required, to give plausibility and force to 
the most wretched commonplaces of servility or hcentiousness, of big- 
otry or superstition. He who reads his great poetical pamphlet, the 
Absalom and Achitophel, after having previously acquainted himself 
with the history and characters of the time, will perceive, that, how- 
ever he may have admired it before, he may still be said never be- 
fore to have read it ; and he will neither wonder at the great name 
which the poet has transmitted to posterity, nor deny him the highest 
prerogative of genius, — the power of stamping on his works the im- 
pression of immortality, and of giving a value that shall never cease 
to productions which originally served the fleeting purposes of the 
day. 

To find contrasts for the Memoirs of Grammont, the compositions 
of the drama, and the writings of Dryden and the wits, — to see the 
extremes of which human nature is capable, — we may turn from 
these productions, and consult Grey's notes to Hudibras, and Hudi- 
bras itself, with such sermons of the Presbyterian divines, and such 
pubhc papers of Presbyterian statesmen, as have reached us. 

As a close to the whole of our inquiries, we may direct our atten- 
tion to the History of Scotland by Laing, a work which will be found 
often contributing to explain and illustrate the reign of Charles the 
First, but absolutely necessary in considering the reign of Charles the 
Second. 



JAMES THE SECOND. 333 

Laing is a writer wlio throws out his opinions so freely and so 
strongly, on subjects so various and so important, that, from, the im- 
possibiUty of all comment, they must be left by me entirely unnoticed. 
But it is necessary to observe, that the style, wliich is at first some- 
what repulsive, will be found materially to improve, as the work pro- 
ceeds, and at length cease to remind us of the disagreeable, abstract 
manner, and of many of the faults of Gibbon. The narrative is 
necessarily encumbered not a little with Church history ; and, as it 
places human nature in no new hght on these occasions, may in these 
places be slightly perused. 

Laing is not considered as a writer favorable to the Stuarts ; but 
how could he, if fit to write at all, be favorable ? It is in the history 
which he details that the faults of these princes are most unequivo- 
cally displayed. Whatever be the excuses for their conduct, which 
may or may not be found while we read the history of England, they 
totally disappear when we turn to the annals of Scotland ; and from 
that moment their defence is hopeless. 



LECTURE XX. 



JAMES THE SECOND. — THE REVOLUTION. 

On the death of Charles the Second, the Duke of York took as 
peaceable possession of the throne as if no effort had ever been made 
to debar him from the succession. If the exclusionists had carried 
their measure, James would always have been represented, by a very 
large and respectable description of writers, as, on the whole, a vic- 
tim to party rage. Without, perhaps, denying exactly the right of a 
community to provide for its own happiness, they would have con- 
tented themselves with observing, that religious opinions were in 
themselves no just disqualification ; that it by no means followed, that 
James, though a Papist himself, would have violated the constitution 
of his co'antry, rather than not make his subjects the same ; that the 
conduct of men altered with their situation ; and that, at all events, 
the patriotism and good sense of James were not fairly tried. 

But, happily for one of the most important of all causes, the cause 
of civil liberty, the experiment was really made ; and all that the 
exclusionists had foreseen, all that with very manly wisdom they had 
endeavoured to prevent, actually took place. When, however, the 
expectations of the exclusionists were verified, and the arbitrary and 



334 LECTURE XX. 

bigoted nature of James was inflamed, rather than pacified, by the 
possession of power, it bj no means followed that the community 
would then be able to relieve itself from the calamity which it had 
incurred. It is very easy for a theorist to say, that a nation has only 
to will to be free, and to be so. The aifairs of mankind proceed in 
no such manner. 

On such a subject as the Revolution in 1688 the student will sure- 
ly think that no pains he can bestow are too great. But he will rise 
from the whole with very different impressions from what I have 
done, if he does not entitle this Revolution not only the glorious, but, 
in the first place, the fortunate, Revolution of 1688. If he can but 
place himself in the midst of these occurrences, and suppose himself 
ignorant of what is to happen, it is with a sort of actual fear and 
trembling that he will read the history of these times ; let him con- 
sider what his country has become by the successful termination of 
these transactions, and what .it might have been rendered by a con- 
trary issue ; how much the interests of Europe were at this juncture 
identified with those of England ; and what a variety of events, the 
most shght and the most natural, might have thro^yn the whole into 
a state of confusion and defeat. 

The first question to be examined is the conduct of James, — his 
unconstitutional measures, his arbitrary designs. 

After the student has perused the history in Hume and Rapin, 
and compared it with the Parliamentary History of Cobbett, he will 
see that the indictment that was afterwards preferred against James 
by the two houses of legislature was strictly founded in fact, point by 
point. As it is impossible for me to detail the history, not an inci- 
dent of which is without its importance, I will just state what that 
indictment was. When the crown was afterwards offered to William 
and Mary, both houses prefaced their offer by declaring the reasons 
that compelled them to adopt a measure so extraordinary. They 
were these ; and they form a sort of summary of the reign of James 
the Second, and therefore I shall read them to you ; in every word 
they deserve attention ; they are the case of the people of England 
on this great occasion : — 

" Whereas the late king, James the Second, by the assistance of 
divers evil counsellors, judges, and ministers, employed by him, did 
endeavour to subvert and extirpate the Protestant religion, and the 
laws and liberties of this kingdom ; — by assuming and exercising a 
power of dispensing with and suspending of laws, and the execution 
of laws, without consent of Parliament ; — by committing and prose- 
cuting divers worthy prelates, for humbly petitioning to be excused 
from concurring to the said assumed power ; — by issuing, and caus- 
ing to be executed, a commission, under the great seal, for erecting 
a court called ' The Court of Commissioners for Ecclesiastical Caus- 
es ' ; — by levying money for and to the use of the crown, by pre- 



JAMES THE SECOND. 335 

tence of prerogative, for other time and in other manner than the 
same was granted by Parliament ; — by raising and keeping a stand- 
ing army within this kingdom, in time of peace, without consent of 
ParUament, and quartering soldiers contrary to law ; — by causing 
several good subjects, being Protestants, to be disarmed, at the same 
time when Papists were both armed and employed contrary to law ; 

— by violating the freedom of election of members to serve in Par- 
liament ; — by prosecutions in the Court of King's Bench for mat- 
ters and causes cognizable only in Parliament ; — and by divers other 
arbitrary and illegal courses : And whereas, of late years, partial, cor- 
rupt, and un(|ualified persons have been returned, and served on ju- 
ries in trials, and particularly divers jurors in trials for high treason, 
which were not freeholders ; and excessive bail hath been required 
of persons committed in criminal cases, to elude the benefit of the 
laws made for the liberty of the subjects ; and excessive fines have 
been imposed ; and illegal and cruel punishments inflicted ; and sev- 
eral grants and promises made of fines and forfeitures, before any 
conviction or judgment against the persons upon whom the same 
were to be levied : all which are utterly and directly contrary to the 
known laws, and statutes, and freedom of this realm." 

Such were the articles of accusation preferred, and it vfiW be found 
justly preferred, against James. And thus much for the external 
facts of his administration. From these the conclusion to the inter- 
nal principles of his conduct is sufficiently clear ; and the very par- 
ticulars of these proceedings, such as they have been collected by 
historians, are all teeming with evidence of a bigotry and a rage for 
arbitrary poAver that advanced to a state of perfect infatuation. 

With respect to such facts and intrigues as were concealed from 
the public, sufficient evidence may be seen in Dalrymple of the base- 
ness of their nature, and of their entire hostihty to the liberties, civil 
and religious, of the English nation. This evidence has been made 
still more abundant by the late publication of Mr. Fox, which contains 
a new supply of authentic documents from France, and the most in- 
teresting letters between the French king and his ambassador, Baril- 
lon. The instruction to be derived from these original letters is the 
same which we have already announced, when we considered the 
communications that passed between the French court and Charles the 
Second. We are here, for instance, taught the importance of the 
two houses of Parliament, particularly the Commons, — the arts by 
which they were to be managed, the pretences by which they were 
to be deceived, the topics by which they were to be soothed, the prin- 
ciples by which they were to be betrayed, the expedients by which 
they were to be corrupted, the obstacle that their meetings and de- 
bates always opposed to the designs of the French and English courts, 

— and, on the whole, the impossibility that schemes of arbitrary 
poAver should succeed, Avhile the Parliaments retained the control of 
the purse, and still preserved their integrity. 



336 LECTURE XX. 

Having now, in a general manner, considered the nature of the 
attack that was made by James on the constitution of the country, 
which is the first part of the subject, we may next turn to examine 
the nature of the resistance that was opposed to him, which is the 
second part. And when this part is considered, the conclusion seems 
to be, and it is a melancholy conclusion, that, if James had not vio- 
lated the religious persuasions of his subjects, he would have met with 
no proper resistance whatever, and that the English nation, after all 
the sufferings and exertions of their ancestors, would at this period 
have submitted to such violations of their civil liberties, and would 
have allowed such precedents to be established, that in the event 
these liberties might very probably have been lost, Hke those of the 
other European monarchies. 

The natural guardian of the community was, in the first place, the 
Parhament. But so successful had been the practices of the king, 
and of his predecessor, Charles, that, when he looked over the list 
of the returns, he declared " that there were not more than forty 
names which he could have wished not there." The Parliament was 
suffered to sit only a year. Some proper feeling was, indeed, shown, 
when the king intimated to them (clearly enough) that he meant to 
maintain a standing army. But their expostulations with the crown 
in this last address were directed merely against his suspensions and 
violations of the law in favor of the Papists, — expostulations of the 
most dutiful kind ; to which his Majesty replied by saying he " did 
not expect such an address " ; and when Coke, of Derby, animated 
for the moment with the remembrance of the better days of the con- 
stitution, stood up and said, " he hoped they were all Englishmen, and 
were not to be frighted out of their duty by a few high words," he 
was immediately sent to the Tower " for his indecent and undutiful 
reflecting on the king and this House." The king immediately pro- 
rogued the Parliament, and never suffered it again to assemble ; and 
here, for any thing that can be discovered to the contrary, in the 
honest, unpremeditated effusion of a single representative of the peo- 
ple, might have ended all the efforts that could be made in the cause 
of the civil liberties of the country. 

For from what quarter comes the next resistance to the illegal pro- 
ceedings of the crown ? From the ecclesiastical bodies, ■ — the Char- 
ter House, the University of Cambridge, the colleges of Oxford, and 
the seven bishops, the representatives of the English clergy ; that is, 
from men who had been so lately, at the close of the reign of Charles 
the Second, the addressers of the crown in the language of servility, 
and the preachers and the propagators of the doctrine of passive 
obedience. Happily for the nation, the clergy at this period, vener- 
able in their characters and situation, however mistaken in their po- 
litical theories, however the teachers of passive obedience, could, 
after all, resist, when their own acknowledged rights, when their own 



JAMES THE SECOND. 337 

established opinions in religion, were endangered ; and the corarauni- 
tj, on their part, could be roused into some sense of their danger, 
when they saw the most dignified ministers of their religion, even the 
prelates of the land, hurried away by officers of justice and consigned 
to imprisonment in the Tower. The king's own standing army, and 
the very sentinels who had to guard these peaceful sufferers, partici- 
pated with the multitude in their sense of religious horror at the 
king's intolerable violation of all law, privilege, and security, — of 
every thing that was dear and respectable in the eyes of his subjects. 

The fact was, that the age still continued to be an age of religious 
dispute. In the former part of the century, we saw the sectaries, 
animated by the religious principle, enter into a contest with the 
Church of England and the crown ; we now see, by the unexpected 
direction of the same religious principle, the Church of England itself 
slowly and heavily moved onward into an opposition to the monarch. 
Not that the Church had begun to entertain more enlightened no- 
tions on the subject of civil obedience, but that the crown had, most 
fortunately, allied itself to Popery ; and the Church, though it abjur- 
ed the doctrines of resistance, however modified, abominated with 
still greater earnestness the tenets and superstitions of the Roman 
Catholic communion. It is not too much to assert, that the resist- 
ance of the people of England to James was universally of a religious 
nature ; of a very large portion of the country, the high Tory and ec- 
clesiastical part, exclusively so. 

But, besides these, there was another great division of the nation, 
of which the resistance was not exclusively of a religious nature. 
The resistance here was compounded ; it was not only of a religious, 
but also, and very properly, of a civil nature. This party was the 
Whig party, the exclusionists, who, like Coke of Derby, were not to 
be put down by high words. These, however fallen and trampled 
upon since the victory of Charles the Second and the accession of 
James, still existed, though discountenanced and in silence ; and they 
must, no doubt, have observed with pleasure their cause strengthen- 
ing as the king proceeded, and new prospects arising of civil happi- 
ness to their country from the religious fury of their arbitrary mon- 
arch, the very prince whom they had endeavoured, from an anticipa- 
tion of his character and designs, to exclude from the throne. 

So much for the resistance which the king experienced at home. 
The next great division of the subject is the resistance which James 
experienced from abroad. 

Cliarles the Second, in a most fortunate moment of improvidence, 
had suffered his minister Danby to connect the Prince of Orange 
with the royal family of England. If James had no male children, 
the wife of William thus became first in succession. Even if he had, 
she remained so, in case the direct male line was to be departed 
from. 

43 cc 



338 LECTURE XX. 

The great enemy of the civil and rehgious Hberties of Europe was, 
at that time, Louis the Fourteenth ; their great hero, WilUam. 
Wilham had seen his own country nearly destroyed, when he had to 
defend it or perish in the last dike. The great assistants of Louis 
had been Charles and James. Between William and Louis there 
could be no peace, and only the appearance of amity between Wil- 
liam and his father-in-law, James. 

In the situation of England, all eyes were naturally turned upon 
this great and hitherto successful assertor of the rights of mankind. 
Wilham, on his part, could not but be perfectly alive to any repre- 
sentations that reached him from a country like England. 

The communications that passed cannot now be thoroughly known. 
This was to be expected. But some idea of them may be formed 
from the publication of Dalrymple. Much of the intercourse between 
William and the patriots must have been of a verbal nature, carried 
on by his two agents, Dyckvelt and Zuylistein, men of address and 
ability, whom, under different pretences, he sent over into England. 

The letters in Dalrymple must, of course, be examined. Dalrym- 
ple speaks of them as showing that " there are few great famihes in 
this country, who will not find that their ancestors, of whatever party 
they were, had a hand in the Revolution, in one way or other." To 
me they appear to show nothing of the sort ; making every allowance 
for the necessity of concealment and caution, they are neither so 
many nor so strong as might have been expected ; and it is not a 
httle remarkable that the great families of this country have never 
produced any letters or memoirs to illustrate the more secret history 
of these extraordinary times. I am not aware of any means that we 
have to gratify the curiosity with which we so naturally turn to in- 
quire after the more secret intrigues that concurred in producing this 
memorable event of the Revolution. 

Among the letters produced by Dalrymple, there are more from 
the Tory lords than could have been looked for ; but the association 
for joining Wilham, if he came over, was, after all, not sent tiU the 
end of June, 1688 ; — he landed in November ; — and was at last 
only signed in cipher by four lords, Devonshire, Danby, Shrews- 
bury, and Lumley; two commoners, Mr. Sidney and Admiral Rus- 
sell ; and one bishop, the Abdiel of the Bench, Compton, then Bishop 
of London. 

The seven patriots just mentioned (there were no more), to whom 
we are so deeply indebted, assure William in their letter, that " there 
are nineteen parts of twenty of the people throughout the kingdom 

who are desirous of a change ; that much the greatest part 

of the nobility and gentry are as much dissatisfied ; and very 

many of the common soldiers do daily show such an aversion to the 
Popish rehgion, that there is the greatest probability imaginable of 
great numbers of deserters which would come from them [the gov- 



JAMES THE SECOND. 339 

ernment] , should there be such an occasion ; and amourist the sea- 
men, it is almost certain, there is not one in ten who would do them 
any service in such a war." 

But here w^e ought certainly to ask. How, after all, was the Prince 
of Orange to attempt any regular enterprise against the crown of 
England ? Observe his difficulties, and you will then understand his 
merit. He w\as at the head of only a small repubhc ; that republic 
had been reduced, but a few years before, to the very last extremi- 
ties by the arms of Louis. How was William to prepare an expedi- 
tion, and not be observed by the French and English monarchs ? how- 
to prosecute it, and not be destroyed by their powder ? If he attacked 
England Avith a small force, how was he to resist James ? if with a 
large one, how was Holland, in his absence, to resist Louis ? In 
either case, how was he to extricate himself from the English and 
French fleets, which might prevent his landing in the first place, or 
at least render his return impossible in the second ? How could he 
expect that the EngUsh, who had so long contended for the empire 
of the seas with their great rivals, the Dutch, would forego the tri- 
umph of a naval victory, if it was once put within their reach ? How 
•was William to trust to the representations of the English patriots, 
who might be suspected of judging of their countrymen through the 
medium of their own wishes and resentments ? How was he to ex- 
pect, even if he landed, that the gentry and nobility would hazard 
their hves and fortunes by appearing in arms, when only seven of 
them had as yet ventured, by any distinct act, to incur the guilt of 
treason ? What spirit of freedom, much more of resistance, had 
the nation sho\\ii, now for seven years, since the political victory of 
Charles the Second over the exclusionists ? Monmouth, the idol of 
the English populace, had just been destroyed by James without dif- 
ficulty ; so had Argyle. What was to be expected from a country 
that was loud, indeed, in their abuse of Popery, but whose pulpits, 
and public meetings, and courts of justice, resounded with the doc- 
trines of passive obedience, and whose very Parliaments seemed to 
admit the same fatal principles ? 

Put the case, that William should even succeed so far as to oblige 
James to call a Parliament, give up his illegal pretensions, and prom- 
ise conformity to the laws in future. To what end or purpose, as far 
as William himself was concerned ? what benefit was to accrue to 
him, but the mere liberty of returning ? while James was to be left, 
in silence and at his leisure, to wait for more favorable times, watch 
his opportunities, recover his authority, and persecute and destroy, 
one by one, all who had contributed to resist or modify his prerogar 
tive. 

It is by reflections of this kind alone, I must repeat, that we can 
be taught duly to estimate the merits of William. The difficulties of 
the enterprise show the greatness of his genius, and the extent of our 



340 LECTURE XX. 

obligation. As far as the Continent was concerned, some idea may 
be formed of the merits of William from a chapter in Somerville 
(the eighth), and they may be still further investigated in Tindal. 
It is true, that many favorable circumstances concurred to enable 
William to combine the discordant materials around him to his pur- 
pose ; but the sagacity, activity, and steadiness, with which he avail- 
ed himself of every advantage which fortune offered him, were above 
all praise. 

So much for the resistance to James from abroad, preparatory to 
the enterprise of William. 

Some assistance may be derived from Burnet, particularly in the 
next stage of our inquiry, the enterprise itself. Burnet had all the 
merits, and all the faults, of an ardent, impetuous, headstrong man, 
whose mind was honest, and whose objects were noble. Whatever 
he reports himself to have heard or seen, the reader may be assured 
he really did hear or see. But we must receive his representations 
and conclusions with that caution which must ever be observed when 
we listen to the relation of a warm and busy partisan, whatever be 
his natural integrity and good sense. He is often censured and 
sometimes corrected ; but the fact seems to be, that, without his 
original, and certainly honest account, we should know little about 
the events and affairs he professes to explain. Many of the writers 
who are not very willing to receive his assistance would be totally at 
a loss without it. 

One of the first remarks to be made on this enterprise is, that, 
with an armament that stretched out to the distance of twenty miles, 
WiUiam was not prevented by the English fleet from landing at Tor- 

bay 

But the second remark is most highly disci-editable to the English 
nation. WilUam landed, and was not joined ; and seems to have re- 
mained a whole week at and about Exeter, mthout any material as- 
sistance or countenance either from the clergy or gentry, nobility or 
people. It is well that he did not retire, as he once thought to have 
done, while to retire was in his power. But perhaps it struck him 
(very properly), that, though nothing was done for him, nothing was 
done against him ; that the king, with his thirty thousand men, did 
not, after all, appear and drive him and his fourteen thousand for- 
eigners into the sea. 

We know something, but not much, of the secret history of the 
court during this critical period. 

There is a Diary by the second Earl of Clarendon, pubhshed with 
his letters. Clarendon was connected with the royal family, and 
seems to have put down, from time to time, some of the facts that 
passed before him, and some of the thoughts that occurred to him. 
Any genuine living account of this sort, however scanty, or by what- 
ever person made, cannot be otherwise than interesting. It is mixed 



JAMES THE SECOND. 341 

up, too, with all the particulars of his own concerns and petty en- 
gagements ; and what Httle, therefore, is said must he considered as 
said without art or affectation, and therefore the proper subject of 
observation. 

The Diary begins to contain passages of interest at the forty-first 
page, in May, 1G88. Wliat appears confirms the general accounts 
given by the historians. 

The great question is, why the king did not take more vigorous 
measures to prepare for the approach of the Prince of Orange ; or 
afterwards, when the Prince really had landed, to drive him out of 
the country. 

" September 24, Monday," says Lord Clarendon, " I went to the 
king's levee He told me the Dutch were now coming to in- 
vade England in good earnest. I presumed to ask if he really be- 
heved it ; to which the king replied with warmth, ' Do I see you, my 

lord ? ' ' And now, my lord,' said he, ' I shall see what the 

Church of England men will do.' " Again : " October 16, Tuesday, 

I was at the king's levee His Majesty told me he had letters 

yesterday from Holland, that the Dutch troops were all embarked," 
&c., &c. " ' You will all find,' " added the king, " ' the Prince of 
Orange a worse man than Cromwell.' " So that the king seems to 
have been fully aware, though late, of his danger. 

At last appeared the Declaration of the Prince of Orange, and 
then the king perceived that the ground was hollow under him. 
" November 2, Friday. The Archbishop," says the Diary, " and 
Bishop of London were with the king, having been sent for ; there 
were likewise present the Bishops of Durham, Chester, and St. Da- 
vid's. The king showed them the Prince of Orange's Declaration, 
and bade Lord Preston read that clause which says, that he was in- 
vited over by several of the lords spiritual and temporal. They all, 
as I have been told, assured the king the contrary. The king said 
he believed them, and was very well satisfied. He told them he 
thought it necessary they should make some declaration, expressing 
their dislike of the Prince's coming in this manner, and that they 
should bring it to him as soon as was possible." But the bishops, 
after all, never did nor would express any such dislike. 

At the end of this volume, in the appendix, there are some very 
curious particulars of what passed between the king and the bishops 
on the subject of distributing and reading his Majesty's Declaration 
of Lidulgence ; and again, on the subject last mentioned, Avhen the 
king required from them an abhorrence of the designs of the Prince 
of Orange, the particulars are remarkable. He seems to have begun 
with Compton, the Bishop of London, and to have closeted him first. 
This bishop had, in fact, signed the invitation to the Prince of Or- 
ange, it may be remembered ; he was one of the seven. The king 
read to him the short paragraph in the Prince's Declaration, where 

cc* 



342 LECTURE XX. 

the lords spiritual, as "well as temporal, are mentioned, as having in- 
vited him over. The moment must have been trying ; but the prel- 
ate had been a soldier in his youth, and seems to have faced the en- 
emy with steadiness in the first place, and then to have drawn off his 
forces with all due expedition and decorum. " I am confident," he 
rephed to the king, " that the rest of the bishops would as readily 
answer in the negative as myself." His Majesty then said he be- 
lieved them all innocent, but he expected a declaration of that inno- 
cence, and an abhorrence. " That is a matter to be considered," 
said the prelate. It was considered; conferences were held. A very 
singular dialogue followed between his Majesty and his prelates, and 
it might soon have been very clear to the monarch, that the trial of 
seven of them in Westminster Hall, and the imprisonment in the 
Tower, whatever might be the passive nature of their obedience, 
neither could nor would be forgotten, when active exertions were re- 
quired from them. 

James, too, must have perceived, or thought that he perceived, 
that his army could not be trusted ; and that, however he might de- 
spise their theological learning, they would probably think it a point 
of honor not to fight against what they considered as their rehgion. 

On the whole, it appears from the Diary, that the king had re- 
ceived the account of the Prince's landuig the day after he had 
effected it, — that is, on the 6th of November, — and that it was not 
till the evening of the 17th that he set off to join his army at Sarum. 

There is a book sometimes quoted by historians, — the IMcmoirs 
of Sir John Reresby ; it is worth reading. Sir John was attached 
to the royal family, and had always lived about the court. He says 
what he has to say with ease and without affectation, never enters 
into any profound or long discussions, but gives an account of his 
life and proceedings in Parhament in much the same agreeable, sen- 
sible manner that a man of this character would tell his story in con- 
versation, to any of his friends to whom he chose to be communica- 
tive, if not entirely confidential. Sir John's words are these : — 

" The king, not knowing whom to trust, returned to Andover 

on the 24th [of November] , where he sat at supper with Prince 
George of Denmark, his son-in-law, and the Duke of Ormond ; but, to 
the surprise of all men, they both deserted him that very night and 
withdrew to the Prince, together with others of good note and ac- 
count Now the number of all that thus forsook the king did 

not as yet amount to one thousand ; but such a mutual jealousy now 
took birth, that there was no relying on any one, no knowing who 
would be true and honest to the cause ; wherefore the army and ar- 
tillery were ordered to retire back towards London, where his Majes- 
ty arrived on the 26th." Such is the account of Sir John. 

But for the king to fall back on London, without opposing the 
progress of those whom he had considered in liis proclamation as 



JAMES THE SECOND. 343 

rebels and invaders, was to leave liis partisans no hope, and liis ene- 
mies no fear. 

The Prince had landed on the 5th, but it was not till the 15th that 
the gentlemen of Somersetshire and Dorsetshire had joined him in 
sufficient numbers to be collected together in a body, and to be pub- 
hcly addressed. It was not till the 16th that Lord Delamere ap- 
peared in favor of the Prince of Orange in Cheshire ; only at the 
same instant that the Earl of Devonshire declared for him at Derby. 
It was not tUl the 22d that York was surprised by Lord Danby, and 
about the same time that a great number of the nobility and gentry 
at Nottingham published the resolution to join the Prince of Orange, 
" for the recovery," as they said, " of their almost* ruined laws, liber- 
ties, and rehgion." 

Not only were the people of England thus tardy (so tardy, that, 
in any ordinary case of tyranny in the monarch, the fate of the con- 
test would in the mean time have been decided), but it is observable, 
that it is only in this last public paper from Nottingham that the 
feelings of men who thought they had been insulted as well as injured 
really appear. In this Nottingham manifesto some flashings of the 
spirit of Colonel Hutchinson are still visible. " We own it rebellion," 
they say, " to resist a king that governs by law, but he has been al- 
ways accounted a tyrant that has made his will his law. — They hoped 
all good Protestant subjects would, with their lives and fortunes, be 
assistant to them, and not be bugbeared with the opprobrious terms 
of rebels, by which the court would fright them to become perfect 
slaves to their tyrannical insolences and usurpations." 

Had the general strain of the papers that were published at this 
time been of this kind, been as worthy of Englishmen as was this, the 
Prince of Orange could have found no material difficulty, whatever 
had been the measures which James pursued. But the general ex- 
pression of the public sentiment was of the most distant and temper- 
ate kind : what was called for was the Protestant religion, and the 
laws and liberties of the country ; but above all, the summoning of a 
free Parliament, to which the settlement of every difficulty and griev- 
ance was to be entirely intrusted. If we consider the offensive out- 
rages of James, we must allow that the effect of the Civil Wars was 
now discernible in the temperament of the nation ; and they who in- 
sist, that, after a convulsion, the restoration of the old dynasty is 
the worst calamity that can happen to the liberties of a country, may 
here find no inconsiderable illustration of the general propriety of 
this opinion. 

Had James stood firm and called a Parliament, and abode by the 
event, it is difficult to say what material advantage could have ulti- 
mately resulted to the constitution of the country ; but, most happily, 
the same civil wars that so impressed upon the people of England the 
teiTors of anarchy and miUtary usurpation contributed no less forcibly 



344 LECTURE XX. 

to Impress on the mind of James the images of the trial and execu- 
tion of the monarch. By a most fortunate want of pohtical sagacity, 
he thought it his best pohcy to fly from the country, and leave it in 
confusion, — the more complete, he thought, the better. The result, 
he supposed, would be, that he should be recalled to settle it, or that, 
at all events, he might thus preserve himself and the royal family, 
and, by the assistance of Ireland, Scotland, and Louis, be hereafter 
in a condition to return to it. 

Lord Clarendon was attached to James, Burnet to "William. From 
a comparison of the accounts of both a very sufficient idea may be 
formed of the verj singular situation of every thing, just before and 
during the Interregnum. 

Lord Clarendon and others were aware of the mistake which James 
was committing, and they labored to prevent it. By an extraordi- 
nary indulgence of fortune, James had to commit his mistake not 
only once, but even a second time ; he fled, and was stopped at Fe- 
versham ; he returned to London, and retired once more. After fly- 
ing the first time, he was alarmed into a flight the second ; and it is 
evident, that, if he had on the last occasion resisted, he could not 
have been compelled to fly, and that the Prince and the cause of the 
Revolution might soon have been in a state of the most irretrievable 
embarrassment and ruin. 

The prudence and skill of Wilham continued as perfect as they 
were in James defective. A House of Commons was peaceably 
formed, and the convention of the two estates assembled. 

And now begins the last and not the least curious scene of all, — 
in some respects the most so ; for what was now the result ? The 
Church party and the Tory party, when James was gone and the 
danger removed, renewed their doctrines of passive obedience and 
the indefeasible tenure of the crown. Scripture, law, custom, seemed 
equally to confirm their tenets. " Be subject to the higher powers" ; 
" The king can do no wrong" ; " The crown of England never was 
nor ever can be considered as elective"; — these were their posi- 
tions, and these the Whig party and the friends of the Prince knew 
not well how to deny ; but they could see plainly that all w\as lost, if 
they w^ere acted upon. From the first, therefore, they had seized 
upon the mistake of the king, his departure from the country, and 
they converted it into an argument which, upon every hypothesis, 
they might, as they conceived, fairly urge. They insisted that it was 
an abdicatmi of the crown, and that no expedient remained but to 
fill up the throne, which had thus become vacant. 

Most fortunately, it happened that the gentry of England had 
their understandings less bewildered by the abstractions of divinity 
and law than the nobility and bishops. In the Commons, the Whig 
party were nearly two to one ; however, after a very curious debate, 
they thought proper to produce only the following heterogeneous and 



THE REVOLUTION. 345 

inconsistent vote : — " That King James the Second, having endeav- 
oured to subvert the constitution of the kingdom by breaking the 
original contract between king and people, and by the advice of Jes- 
uits and other wicked persons having violated the fundamental laws, 
and having withdrawn himself out of this kingdom, has abdicated the 
government, and that the throne is thereby vacant." 

We will observe for a moment the words here used : " That King 
James the Second, having endeavoured to subvert the constitution of 
the kingdom by breaking the original contract between king and peo- 
ple," (so far we have the great interests of civil liberty and the Whig 
principles making their appearance,) " and by the advice of Jesuits 
and other wicked persons having violated the fundamental laws," 
(here we have the religious part of the contest,) — but in consequence 
of all this, — what ? that his Majesty had forfeited his right to the 
crown ? that the next in the Protestant succession should be called 
to the throne ? are these the words that follow, — as apparently they 
ought ? No ; the words that follow are these : " and having with- 
drawn himself out of this kingdom," (not voluntarily, as every one 
knew,) " has abdicated the government," (meaning, by the word " ab- 
dicated," to imply that he had done a legal act, that he had formally 
divested himself of the crown) ; and then, at last, came tlie necessa- 
ry conclusion of the whole, " and that the throne is thereby vacant." 

As the Wliigs were, in the House of Commons, the stronger par- 
ty, and, after asserting their principle of the original contract, had 
chosen not to push it to its logical conclusions, which would have 
been so offensive to the Tories, but to rest the vacancy of the throne 
on the departure of the king, the Tories of the lower house probably 
thought that no better terms were to be had ; and after a debate of 
four hours, the motion which the Tories made was only for an ad- 
journment, and this was with some hurry and noise overruled, and 
the original vote, without a division, was carried, and sent up to the 
Lords. 

Not only Burnet should now be consulted, but by all means the 
Journals of the Lords, or Cobbett's Parliamentary History, and Clar- 
endon's Diary. 

The vote no sooner reached the upper house than it was imme- 
diately separated into its component parts, and debated clause by 
clause. 

From the Journals it appears that the House had already taken 
due pains to collect all their members ; some were sick, some out of 
the kingdom, some absent, probably by design. 

But before the vote of the Commons was debated paragraph by 
paragraph, the first effort of the Tories was to slip aside, if possible, 
from these disagreeable positions of the original contract and viola- 
tion of fundamental laws, and, without expressly saying whether the 
throne was or was not vacant, to obtain a vote for a regency. On 
44 



346 LECTURE XX. 

this occasion the Whigs overpowered their opponents, and maintained 
the fortunes of the Revolution, only by a majority of two voices, — 
fifty-one to forty-nine. The names of the members present are in the 
Journals ; the wJiole number in a former page ; the names of the 
minority are in Clarendon's Diary : so that every thing respecting 
these important votes, how each peer voted or conducted himself, 
may be ascertained. Lord Churchill, afterwards the great Duke of 
Marlborough, and a few others, chose to be indisposed ; Sanci'oft, the 
archbishop, in like manner, to be absent. Of the fourteen bishops 
that attended, two only, Bristol and London, voted with the Whigs. 

On the next sitting, the Lords debated, in the first place, the 
great Whig doctrine of the original contract between the king and 
people, and the affirmative (that there was such an original contract) 
was carried by a majority of seven, — fifty-three to forty-six. The 
Whigs, therefore, were gaining ground. 

But here their triumphs ended : they could not get the word " a1> 
dicated " carried ; nor, the next day, that the Prince and Princess 
of Orange should be declared king and queen, which was lost by five, 
forty-seven to fifty-two ; nor, " that the throne was vacant," — lost 
by eleven (forty-four to fifty-five, — not forty-one to fifty-five, as it is 
in Lord Clarendon, probably by a mistake of the figure) . The word 
" deserted " was substituted for the word " abdicated " ; the clause 
about the vacancy of the throne omitted ; and in this state the vote 
returned to the Commons. 

But the Commons could not see the propriety of these alterations ; 
a conference, therefore, took place. 

The discussion which took place on this remarkable occasion is rep- 
resented by some writers, and even by Hume, as turning (to use his 
own words) upon " frivolous topics," and as " more resemblmg the 
verbal disputes of the schools than the sohd reasonings of statesmen 
and legislators." They who are at all acquainted with the very met- 
aphysical nature of Mr. Hume's most favorite compositions Avill be 
somewhat surprised at this sudden impatience and dislike of those 
verbal disputes, as he terms them, or rather, as he ought to think 
them, of those explanations and distinctions of words and phrases, 
without which no subject of importance ever was or can be thorough- 
ly examined. 

This conference between the Lords and Commons, far from being 
cast aside as the mere idle discussion of unmeaning subtilties, should, 
I conceive, be considered with the utmost attention. It is given by 
Cobbett. Some of the first men the country has produced were en- 
gaged in it ; the occasion was the most important that has ever oc- 
curred ; and the debate itself will be found in no respect unworthy 
of the character and abihties of the speakers. 

The value of this conference appears to consist in this : that it is a 
development of those principles which must always, more or less, 



THE REVOLUTION. 347 

exist in a mixed monarchical government, — of the principles, and 
of their consequences when applied to practice. And such a devel- 
opment is and must ever be of importance, not only to ourselves, 
but to all who are ever to live under any reasonably mixed form of 
government ; because the laws and ordinances of any such form of 
government can never speak, any more than our own do, of resist- 
ance to authority, of dethroning kings, of trying, of punishing them, 
of the paramount authority of the public, and other political positions 
and maxims of the same kind. Such can never be the language of 
the constitution of a country : but if it be thence inferred, that no 
language but the ordinary language of the constitution is ever to be 
used, that no maxims but the ordinary maxims of the laws are ever 
to be proceeded upon, then these memorable debates, and above all, 
this memorable conference, will be of value, to show in what inextri- 
cable, what fatal, perplexity a nation and its statesmen must be left, 
if, when its liberties are invaded, they will not submit to acknowledge, 
that, however sacred the general rules of hereditary monarchy or 
civil obedience may be, exceptions must be sometimes admitted, and, 
whether admitted or not in theory, must at all events be sometimes 
proceeded upon in practice. 

On the whole, it must be confessed that the Whig leaders con- 
ducted themselves through all these transactions with a temper which 
no political party ever before showed ; they considered their oppo- 
nents neither as necessarily knaves nor certainly fools, neither as 
comljined to destroy their country nor as holding principles inconsis- 
tent with society, — compliments that were, no doubt, paid them out 
of doors very liberally ; but no impatient expressions or accusations 
of the kind seem to have escaped them : while, on the contrary, the 
Tory lords were insulted repeatedly in their passage to the house ; 
the public in London (for the Tories were probably predominant in 
the country) intimated to them very plainly, that they considered 
themselves as somewhat forgotten in their debates. The Whig lead- 
ers, however, contrived, by every possible forbearance and palliation, 
to render the acquiescence of the Tories in the new settlement of the 
government as little offensive to their particular principles, and there- 
fore to their feelings of honor, as possible ; a w^isdom, this, very rare, 
and at all times very desirable. 

Great bodies of men seldom understand very thoroughly those 
principles of religion and politics which they profess, or rather never 
understand the real value of the difference that exists between them 
and their opponents on these subjects ; but they can always compre- 
hend fully that it is dishonorable for them to desert, in time of trial, 
what they have been accustomed to profess, and therefore, right or 
wrong, tlds they will not do. Here lay the great merit of the Whigs, 
— their temper, their spirit of conciliation, their practical philosophy, 
their genuine wisdom, so different from the wisdom of those who, on 



848 LECTURE XX. 

occasions of political or other weighty discussion, ignorant of the 
business of the world, and unfitted for it, bustle about with impor- 
tance, displaying all the triumphs of their logic, and hurrying their 
opponents and themselves into difficulties and disgrace, from the very 
oflfensiveness of their manner, and from their vain and puerile confi- 
dence in what they think the cogency of reason and the evidence of 
truth. 

And now comes forward the great merit of WilUam himself. Wil- 
liam had done every thing, from the first, which he understood to be 
consistent with the liberties and laws of the country ; he then waited 
the event. But he perceived that the parties were far more neai^ly 
balanced than he had probably at first supposed ; that, if either of 
these parties insisted on their own opinion, in defiance of the other, a 
civil war might ensue ; that the Tories were, in practice at least, in- 
different to the service he had rendered them, now that they were 
safe from Popery ; that the Whigs themselves seemed to be thinking 
more anxiously of the maxims of the constitution of England than of 
what was due to the great cause of civil and religious liberty, not 
only in England, but in Europe ; and that no one could be found 
who appeared sufficiently impressed with what was owing both to the 
States of Holland and to himself, for embarking in an enterprise 
originally so unpromising, always so perilous, and hitherto so success- 
fully conducted. 

That William had a perfect right to be considerably out of humor 
cannot be doubted ; and if he had not expressed his own sentiments 
at a proper juncture, and given the weight of his decision to the ar- 
guments and expostulations of the Whigs, it is impossible to say how 
long and how preposterously the Tories might have persevered in 
their most impracticable opinions, and again, how long the moderation 
and caution of the Whigs might have been able to sustain itself, and 
might have continued to maintain the peace of the community, — in 
other words, whether a civil war might not have been the result, or 
at least the return of James. What passed on this occasion between 
William and the Whig leaders is well known. " They might have a 
regent," he told them, " no doubt, if they thought proper, but he 
would not be that regent ; they might wish him, perhaps, to reign in 
right, and during the lifetime, of his wife, but he would submit to 
nothing of the sort ; and he should certainly, in either case, return 
to Holland, and leave them to settle their government in any manner 
they thought best." The conclusion from all this was plain : that he 
and the Princess were to be raised to the throne ; and that he chose, 
himself, to possess the crown, as if it had regularly descended to him, 
or not at all. 

This conduct in William was at the time and has often since been 
branded by many reasoners and writers as not a little base and crim- 
inal : criminal, from the violation of duty to James, his father-in-law, 



THE REVOLUTION. 349 

•whom he was accused of having thus dethroned ; base, from the proof 
thus exhibited, that from the first he had been actuated merely by 
selfish ambition, — that, from the first, he had but dissembled his real 
designs on the crown, — that, from the first, every thing he had been 
doing was in direct contradiction to all he had professed and avowed 
in his own Declaration. 

To consider this subject for a moment. — In his First Declaration 
he had said that his expedition was intended for no other design but 
to have a free and lawful Parliament assembled as soon as possible ; 
that " he had nothing before his eyes in this undertaking but the 
preservation of the Protestant religion, the covering of all men from 
persecution for their consciences, and the securing to the whole na- 
tion the free enjoyment of their laws, rights, and liberties under a 
just and legal government" ; and again, in his Additional Declara- 
tion, " that no person could have such hard thoughts of liim as to 
imagine that he had any other design in this undertaking than to 
procure a settlement of the religion and of the liberties and properties 
of the subjects upon so sure a foundation, that there might be no 
danger of the nation's relapsing into the like miseries at any time 
hereafter " ; that " the forces he had brought along with him were 
utterly disproportioned to that wicked design of conquermg the na- 
tion, if he were capable of intending it " ; and that of those Avho 
countenanced the expedition, " many were distinguished by their 
constant fidelity to the cro^\^l." This last is the strongest expres- 
sion to be found, — the only one where the cro^vn is exactly men- 
tioned. 

To representations of this nature it may be briefly answered, that 
it is mere mockery to speak of William's duty, as a son, to one who 
never was or wished to be his father-in-law in any sense of the word ; 
and that, whatever construction might be given, by the Tories or by 
the Whigs, to the terms of the Piince's Declaration, it was quite idle 
to suppose that he and the States of Holland would embark in an 
enterprise like this, and put every interest that was dear to them into 
a situation of the most imminent danger, for the sake of the good 
people of England alone. What was England to either of them, but 
as a member of the great community of Europe, — as a country that 
might be Protestant or Popish, that might concur to protect or de- 
stroy them, merely as James did or did not succeed in his designs 
upon its liberties and constitution ? Their ci\dl and religious interests 
and those of England thoroughly coincided, and the whole cause was 
the most generous and noble that could well be proposed to the hu- 
man imagination ; but when it had succeeded, and succeeded so com- 
pletely, — when, without disturbance or bloodshed, the whole force 
and energies of such a country as England were within the reach of 
William, to be turned to the defence of every interest of his own 
country, of Europe, and of England itself, — when this could be 

D D 



350 LECTURE XX. 

done only by his requiring for himself the executive administration 
of the government, — when every other expedient could only have 
served to renew the designs and power of James and Louis, and must 
have ultimately ended in the ruin of the civil and religious liberties 
of mankind ; in this situation of things, was it for William to disap- 
point the reasonable expectations of his own country, and of every 
intelligent man in Europe, — to be wanting to his own glory, and to 
show himself incapable of discharging the high office of humanity, to 
which, in the mysterious dispensation of events, he had been called ? 
Was it for William to abandon all the great pretensions and honors 
of his life, embarked, as he had been from the first, in opposition to 
Louis, and placed on the theatre of Europe in a situation of all the 
most elevated, — that of the champion, and hitherto the successful 
champion, of the civil and religious liberties of mankind ? 

The fact is, that what was required or expected from William by 
the moralists and statesmen who criminated or even censured his con- 
duct, then or afterwards, was in itself inconsistent and impossible. 
No man with the views or feelings of such moralists or statesmen 
would have ever engaged in such an enterprise at all, much less 
have conducted it with success. Enterprises like these, that produce 
an epoch in the annals of the world, and give a new career of ad- 
vancement to society, are neither approached nor comprehended at 
the time, but by men of a more exalted order, like Wilham. Even to 
such men, the latent possibilities of such enterprises, from the uncer- 
tain nature of every thing human, can be apprehended only dimly 
and at a distance, and suspected rather than seen ; the prospect 
clears or darkens as they proceed ; it opens at last, or shuts for ever ; 
but if the moment of visible glory once presents itself, it is then that 
these heroes of the world march on as did William, and decide for 
themselves and for posterity the happiness of kingdoms and of ages. 

Li consequence of WilHam's decided and critical interference, the 
Lords at last agreed to withdraw their amendments, to consent to the 
word " abdicated," and to admit the vacancy of the crown. Burnet 
seems to say that these important points were carried at last by a 
majority of only two or three voices. 

When it was at last resolved to crown the Prince and Princess of 
Orange, a new oath of allegiance was to be constructed. This was 
done with very commendable attention to the Tories, that, while they 
concurred with the new settlement, their principles might be as little 
interfered with as possible. 

And now began the benefits of this successful enterprise. First, 
the line of succession was departed from, and it was declared that no 
Papist should reign ; Popery was therefore escaped. Secondly, Wil- 
liam was made king, though it was his wife, not himself, who was 
next in succession , WilUam, therefore, was considered as elected. 
The right, therefore, of the community, in particular cases, to inter- 



THE REVOLUTION. 351 

fere with the disposal of the executive power, and even of the croAvn 
itself, was exercised and admitted. Thirdly, before the crown was 
conferred, as a preliminary part of the ceremony, the opportunity 
was taken, which had not been taken at the Restoration, of making 
some provision for the future security of the constitution, and certain 
rights and Uberties Avere claimed, demanded, and insisted upon, as 
the undoubted rights and Uberties of the people of England. The 
constitution was, therefore, renewed and confirmed. The Prince and 
Princess, when they received the crown, which was after this Decla- 
ration tendered to them, in their turn declared, that " they thank- 
fully accepted what was offered them." 

These remarkable transactions have been a fruitful source of politi- 
cal discussion ; and as it is difficult, indeed impossible, to refer to the 
various inferences that have been drawn from them with respect to 
the constitution of England, I shall select, as prominent specimens, 
and of an opposite nature, the Discourse of Dr. Price on the Love 
of our Country, and the Reflections of Mr. Burke on the French 
Revolution ; and it is to them chiefly that I shall allude, in the ob- 
servations which I shall now offer. 

From the general turn and result of these memorable proceedings, 
it appears to Dr. Price that the people of England have acquired a 
right (to use his own words) " to choose their own governors, to cashier 
them for misconduct, and to frame a government for themselves." 
All this is resisted by Mr. Burke ; and, stated in the unqualified man- 
ner of Dr. Price, it cannot well be admitted. 

Yet something more must be admitted than Mr. Burke seems 
willing to allow. As far as precedent can establish a right, it must 
be conceded, both from all the language of the parties at the time, 
and from the result of these transactions, that the right is established 
in the people of England, on very grave and urgent occasions, of de- 
parting from the hereditary succession, and therefore, as Dr. Price 
would have it, in such cases, of choosing a governor for themselves, 
for it was in this manner that King William was chosen. 

But the same reasonings, and every other fact, conspire to show 
that this is a right, as Mr. Burke contended, to be exercised rather 
as of necessity than of choice ; to be admitted as a mere exception to 
the general rule of hereditary succession, and as in no respect to be 
considered as the rule itself; a right to be exercised with the same 
unwillingness and doubt with which any great rule in morahty would 
be broken, — broken from the mere necessity of the case. 

In reasoning of this tenor and spirit, Mr. Burke seems perfectly 
supported by the whole of the expressions that appear on the face of 
these proceedings, and the facts that took place. Reference may 
even be had to the sum and substance of the whole, and it may be 
asked, What were the alterations which the patriots in 1688 really 
did make in the constitution ? These will be found very much to 



352 LECTURE XX. 

disappoint the expectations of all such reasoners as suppose that con- 
stitutions of government are in the first place to be planned out ac- 
cording to the suggestions of deliberative wisdom, and, when reduced 
to shape and order and perfection, then to be proposed and accepted 
by a people, and the people thus made to grow up and fashion them- 
selves to their prescribed model. 

There is certainly little in these transactions to countenance any 
experiments or reasonings of this nature. The same rights and 
liberties which had been claimed, demanded, and insisted upon, 
when the crown was tendered, were afterwards converted into the 
materials of an act, which was presented to the king and received 
the royal assent, and the whole was then " declared, enacted, and 
established by authority of this present Parliament, to stand, remain, 
and be the law of this realm for ever." This was done, and no 
more ; this was all that, apparently at least, was attempted. No 
pretences were made to any merit of salutary alteration or legislative 
reform. The original Declaration, the subsequent Bill of Rights, 
were each of them expressly stated to be only a declaration of the 
old constitution ; they were each an exhibition of the rights and liber- 
ties of the people of England, already undoubted and their own ; ex- 
periment, innovation, every thing of this kind, is virtually disclaimed, 
for nothing of the kind is visible in the style or language of these 
singular records. 

It must, however, on the other hand, be carefully noticed, that, 
though the Bill of Rights might not propose itself as any alteration, 
it was certainly a complete renovation, of the free constitution of 
England. The abject state to which the laws, the constitution, and 
the people themselves had fallen must never be forgotten ; and it 
then can surely not be denied that this pubhc assertion, on a sudden, 
this establishment and enactment, of all the great leading principles 
of a free government fairly deserves the appellation which it has al- 
ways received, of the Revolution of 1688. 

It is very material to observe, that the Declaration and enactment 
were totally on the popular side, were declaratory entirely and ex- 
clusively of the rights and liberties of the people, in no respect of the 
prerogatives of the crown. The Bill of Rights was, in fact, a new 
Magna Charta, — a new Petition of Right, — a new enrolment of the 
prerogatives, if I may so speak, of the democratic part of the con- 
stitution, — which, though consented to by William, an elected prince, 
and perhaps even thought necessary to his own justification and secu- 
rity, could only have been extorted by force from any reigning 
hereditary monarch, and, in point of fact, was certainly not procured 
by the English nation, on this occasion, till the regular possessor of 
the crown had ceased to wear it, and till the country had appeared 
in a state of positive and successful resistance to his authority. 

It must always be remembered, that, through the whole of these 



THE REVOLUTION. 353 

proceedings, there was an acknowledgment and a practical exhibition 
of the great popular doctrine, that all government, and all the forms 
and provisions which are necessary to its administration, must ulti- 
mately be referred to the happiness of the people. This is supposed 
at every moment, from the first resistance of the measures of James, 
to the last act of the ceremony of crowning the Prince of Orange ; 
and it is this acknowledgment, and this practical exhibition of a great 
theoretical truth, which constitute the eternal value and importance 
of these most remarkable transactions. The caution, the moderation, 
the forbearance, the modest wisdom with which the leading actors in 
the scene conducted themselves are the proper subjects of our pane- 
gyric, but must never be so dwelt upon, that we are to forget the 
real meaning of these proceedings, their positive example, their per- 
manent instruction, transmitted practically and visibly, not only to 
the sovereign, but to the people. 

Hitherto we have considered the Revolution chiefly with respect to 
the civil constitution of the kingdom ; but another subject, to which, 
before I conclude this lecture, I must briefly advert, still remains. 
The student must never forget that he is at all times to keep his at- 
tention fixed on the state and progress, not only of the civil, but of 
the religious, liberties of mankind. As the connection between them 
is so natural, it might fairly be supposed that the same advancement 
which the former seemed at this epoch to have received would have 
been received in like manner by the latter ; but there is more diffi- 
culty in this latter case than there is even in the former, and the 
same sort of efforts for religious liberty that failed at the Restoration 
failed likewise at the Revolution. 

But with respect to these efforts, the merit seems to have belonged 
almost exclusively to WilUam. The great defender of the religious 
as well as civil liberties of his own country and of Europe, the great 
assertor of the Protestant cause in England and on the Continent, 
was not inconsistent with himself; there were no exertions which he 
did not make to introduce into the houses of legislature, and among 
the people of this country, those generous and reasonable notions 
which he did not find, and with which his own elevated nature, even 
in a religious age, was so honorably animated and impressed. 

His first attempt appears to have been to emancipate the Dissent- 
ers from the Test Act. This was an act passed in the reign of 
Charles the Second, and originally levelled against the Papists, or 
rather against the Duke of York, — not against the Presbyterians. 
They had, indeed, been persuaded to concur in it, lest, at that very 
critical period, the bill should, by any hesitation of theirs, or even 
modification in their favor, be lost ; and it was understood that they 
were subsequently to be released from its provisions. This, however, 
they never were, nor are they, even at this day ; so easy in politics 
is it to be wrong, so difficult afterwards to become right. King Wil- 

45 DD* 



354 LECTURE XX. 

liam, for instance, found all his efforts entirely fruitless : the business 
was, indeed, agitated in the Lords, in the Commons, in the nation, — 
the protests in the* Journals of the Lords are remarkable, as are all 
the proceedings related by Burnet, — but the bishop closes his ac- 
count by saying, " It was soon very visible that we were not in a 
temper cool or calm enough to encourage the further prosecuting 
such a design." 

You will see in the Note-book on the table a few more observations 
on this subject of the Test Act, to explain its history. It has always 
been represented as the palladium of our constitution in church and 
state ; this, I think, is the expression made use of in sermons, and 
addresses, and episcopal charges. I must take the liberty of consid- 
ering it as a monument of national impolicy, and even national want 
of good faith and honor. 

We now, therefore, turn to consider what this intelligent states- 
man, really and in point of fact, was able at last to accomplish for 
the cause of religious liberty in England, at that time the most en- 
lightened country in Europe in all the principles of civil hberty. He 
obtained, then, the Toleration Act. 

" Forasmuch," says the preamble to the act, " as some ease to 
scrupulous consciences in the exercise of religion may be an effectual 
means to unite their Majesties' Protestant subjects in interest and 
affection," &c., &c. On this account the existing penalties were 
taken off from the body of Dissenters with respect to the exercise and 
profession of their faith, on condition of taking the oath of allegiance, 
an oath to which they had no objection. This act, therefore, Avith 
respect to the great body of the Dissenters, was really an Act of 
Toleration. 

But you will observe, that, besides the body of the Dissenters, 
there are the teachers of the Dissenters to be considered. With re- 
spect to the teachers of the Dissenters, the Nonconforming ministers, 
the existing penalties of Lord Clarendon's act were strong, — that 
they were not to come within five miles of corporate towns, &c., &c. 
These were by the Toleration Act taken off, but on a certain condi- 
tion, — that these teachers signed those articles of the Church of 
England which related to faith. The toleration, therefore, and in- 
dulgence granted to the Dissenting teachers was this, — that they 
were excused from signing those articles which related to discipline. 
This act, therefore, as far as mere reasoning was concerned (but 
this, in the affairs of mankind, is only one point among many), — 
this act, I say, as far as mere reasoning and logic were concerned, 
bore upon the face of it its own condemnation ; for, if the Dissenting 
ministers differed from the Church in articles of faith, they could not 
yet sign, and the act extended to them no toleration ; and if they 
differed from the Church only in points of discipline, then those points 
of discipline and church government should not have been insisted 



THE REVOLUTION. 355 

upon by the Church, and they should have been brought within her 
pale. But allowance must be made for mankind on subjects like 
these. 

On the whole, the Toleration Act was an act of relief and indul- 
gence ; as such it has always been considered ; it has been adminis- 
tered and interpreted very favorably to the Nonconformists, and very 
inconsistently with the mere letter of it, — that is, very creditably to 
the government, — from the increasing humanity and more consistent 
Christianity of the times. 

The Toleration Act was an act with which, defective as it might 
really be, and must necessarily have appeared to William, still it was 
perfectly incumbent on him to rest contented, as society was at the 
time not in a temper to grant more. Probably the king thought so ; 
for, having made these wise and virtuous efforts soon after his acces- 
sion, and established the Kirk of Scotland, agreeably, as he conceiv- 
ed, to the wishes of the nation, he seems to have turned immediately, 
and without further expostulation, from this not altogether ineffectual 
campaign in the cause of religious liberty, to face his enemies in the 
field in defence of the more intelligible rights of civil liberty. These 
enemies he found in Ireland and in the continent of Europe, and he 
was happy enough to overpower the one, and at least to check and 
resist the other. 

Since I drew up these lectures, the Stuart papers have been pub- 
lished, and the historical student will naturally refer to them, — the 
Life of James the Second, edited by Mr. Clarke. I have not found 
it necessary to make any alterations either in my first or in this sec- 
ond course of lectures, in consequence of the perusal of them. All 
the regular conclusions of historians and intelligent writers seem to 
me only confirmed, and rendered more than ever capable of illustra- 
tion, by the new materials of observation that are now exhibited to 
our view. 

The same might be said, I have no doubt, if the very journal of 
the king (James the Second) had been placed before us. This has 
unfortunately perished. We have in the Stuart papers only the rep- 
resentation of it, given by some friend or confidential agent of the 
family ; but between this representation and the real and original 
composition of the king himself the great difference would be, that 
the king's own journal would have sho^vn, in a manner more natural 
and striking, all the faults of his mind and disposition. Of these 
there can surely be no further evidence necessary ; certainly not to 
those who understand and love liberty ; but, after all, these are not 
the majority : and the loss of the journal, independent of the curios- 
ity belonging to the other characters of these times, must be consid- 
ered as a great loss, because, though no new light would have been 
thrown on these subjects, there would have been more ; and there 
cannot be too much light thrown. They who run should read. 



356 LECTURE XXI. 



LECTURE XXI 



EAST AND WEST INDIES. 

"We must now consider ourselves as having made a sort of progress 
through the more important parts of the history of modern Europe. 
We have alluded to the conquests and final settlements of the barbar- 
ous nations, the Dark Ages, the progress of society, the ages of in- 
ventions and discoveries, the revival of learning, the Reformation, the 
civil and religious wars, the fortunes of the French constitution and 
government ; the fortunes, in like manner, of our own civil and re- 
ligious liberties, till they were at length successfully asserted, con- 
firmed, and established, at the Revolution of 1688. We have made 
our comments on that most fortunate event. 

We might now, therefore, proceed to the character and reign of 
WilHam, and to the history of more modern times ; but I must first 
attend to a part of the modern history of Europe of which I have 
hitherto taken no notice ; and I must go back for nearly two centuries, 
while I advert to a series of events which distinguished the ages of 
inventions and discoveries, and which are on every account deserving 
of our curiosity : I allude to the discovery of the New World, and 
the concjuests and settlements of the difierent European nations in 
the East and West Indies. 

This omission of mine you have, no doubt, remarked ; but to these 
topics I have as yet forborne to make any reference, because, among 
other reasons, I wished not to interrupt the train of your reflections 
and inquiries, while directed to the subject of the progress of Europe, 
more particularly in its great interests of civil and religious liberty, — 
a subject which, if surveyed apart, has a sort of unity in it, which I 
have in this manner endeavoured to preserve. I must not, however, 
be supposed insensible to the curiosity and interest which belong to 
such events as distinguish the lives of the discoverers and conquerors 
of a new hemisphere, the great navigators and military captains of 
the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. I have wished only to adjourn 
for a season, by no means to disregard, such memorable transactions. 

While we read the civil and reUgious history of Europe in the 
manner I have supposed, the general facts respecting America and 
the Indies will present themselves, and may be received without any 
immediate examination ; nor is this of any material consequence ; we 
may still hasten on. We can easily conceive, what in fact took 
place, that these vast and unknown regions, when once discovered, 
would be converted into the great theatres where enterprise and 
courage were to be exhibited. We can find no difficulty in suppos- 



EAST AND WEST INDIES. 357 

ing, that the woods and morasses of America, however gloomy and 
inhospitable, would still seem a retreat and a refuge to those who 
were exasperated by persecution or inflamed by religious enthusiasm. 
We may easily take into our account the effect which would be pro- 
duced on the minds of men by the novelty of their prospects and 
situation, on the discovery of a new portion of the globe. All this 
we may conceive, and in a general manner take for granted, whUe 
we read the history of Europe ; and we may afterwards turn back 
and examine the more particular history of these expeditions, and 
give them such attention as, on the whole, and in comparison with 
other objects of reflection, they may appear to deserve. 

But here again, as on all former occasions, we should transport 
ourselves in imagination back to this distant period, and assume, for 
a time, the opinions and sympathies of those who went before us, the 
better to understand their merits and to be instructed by their faults, 
the better to be animated by their history, and improved in our own 
minds and dispositions by the spectacle before us, — by the images 
of our common nature placed in scenes so fitted to display all the 
possible varieties of the human character. Science has now been 
advanced, navigation brought to comparative perfection ; the winds 
and currents of other climates and seas, the shores and rocks, the 
rivers and the harbours, of an unknown hemisphere, have now been 
ascertained ; and we travel over the ocean as we journey over the 
land, expecting at a given time to reach a given place, and with little 
more fear of miscarriage and disappointment in the one case than in 
the other. But the situation of mankind at the close of the fifteenth 
century in none of these respects resembled ours ; the difference is 
one of the greatest testimonies that can be produced to the progres- 
sive nature of human improvement ; and before we open the history 
of America, we must endeavour to forget, for a season, our present 
situation and our comparative advantages. After all our efforts, it 
will scarcely be possible for us properly to comprehend and sympar 
thize with the various strong and contradictory emotions to which 
these enterprises gave occasion, in the course of their origin, prog- 
ress, and success. 

The work of Dr. Robertson is well known. The whole subject, as 
far as we need at present consider it, is there fully discussed. To 
his History of America I must refer you. In his work we are made 
acquainted, first, with the progress of navigation anterior to the time 
of the great Columbus, the discoverer of America ; the nature and 
the fortunes of his enterprise ; the fortunes of Columbus himself: the 
conquest of Mexico, by Cortes ; of Peru, by Pizarro : and we have 
also a very full discussion of a subject so extraordinary as the situar 
tion and nature of whole races of men that before had never been 
supposed to exist. 

Themes so striking and so interesting have not in vam been pre- 



358 LECTURE XXL 

sented to this accomplished historian. He has formed a narrative 
and composed a work, of all others the most attractive that the range 
of history affords ; and along with the other merits which his writings 
so generally exhibit, this production has another, not so obvious, and 
surely of very difficult attainment : he is never betrayed into incon- 
siderate enthusiasm by the splendid nature of his subject ; liis imagi- 
nation does not improperly take fire, amid events and characters of a 
cast so dazzhng and so romantic ; he is still an historian, — he is still 
calm, deliberative, and precise. While deUvering a story which an 
epic poet might have been proud to have invented, he never loses for 
a moment the confidence of his readers by any appearence of ex- 
aggeration, or any passion for dramatic representation. Content with 
the real interest of his theme, he proceeds with his usual dignified 
composure, and delivers to posterity those inestimable pages which 
may be at once an amusement for the most young and uninformed 
and a study for the most grave and enlightened. 

Such, I confess, is the general impression which has been made 
on my own mind by the perusal of the work of Dr. Robertson, and I 
think it quite sufficient to refer my readers, for an account of Ameri- 
ca, to his History of America. This History is, unfortunately for the 
author, hke his other compositions, put into our hands very early in 
the course of our education, and too soon, before its merits can be 
properly understood ; and it is in general not read again at a maturer 
period, because it is supposed, very unreasonably, that it has been 
already read. This mistake I must entreat my hearers not to com- 
mit with any of his writings, or, indeed, any of the great classical 
works of our literature. The pages of Dr. Robertson have not the 
unwearied splendor of Gibbon, or the sudden flashes of sagacity 
which so charm us in the historical writings of Hume ; but Robertson 
is always an historian, with all the important merits which belong to 
the character. 

Mr. Southey, indeed, accuses him of leaning to a system, and of 
unwarrantably depreciating the character and civilization of the two 
great nations of America, — the Mexicans and Peruvians. I see not 
what temptation he could have for doing so ; and if the student should 
turn to Clavigero, and Garcilasso de la Vega, to whose accounts Mr. 
Southey refers, — to Clavigero's strictures, and Dr. Robertson's re- 
phes to him, — I do not conceive that your confidence in our own 
historian will be at all disturbed. 

Once more, therefore, referring to his History, as perfectly ade- 
quate to all the purposes of your entertainment and instruction, I am 
yet desirous that you should, at the same time, undertake the perusal 
of some of the original authorities. I will mention such as I think 
you may read. 

The subject teems with striking events and characters, of which 
too much cannot well be known. Columbus, for instance, seems to 



EAST AND WEST INDIES. 359 

have been a man whose merit was above all praise ; whose character, 
if we consider the very extraordinary energy which it both possessed 
and exhibited, was yet so tempered and chastised as to be rendered 
faultless, to a degree of which there is in history no parallel : of such 
a man every original notice is invaluable. There is a Life of him by 
his son ; it is not long, is easily found, is continually referred to by 
Robertson ; and on these accounts I recommend it to your perusal. 
A translation of it is given in the second volume of Churchiirs 
Voyages. A son of Columbus might, perhaps, have been expected 
to say more of such a father ; but there is a simplicity in what is 
said, and an attention to the paramount importance of precision and 
truth, that render every word of consequence. When men who 
have communications of real interest to dehver to the world are not 
regular writers, their narratives only gain a new interest from the 
very manner, imperfect and unadorned, in which they are conveyed. 
On these occasions we want only facts and observations, — the facts 
that occurred, and the observations to which they gave rise at the 
moment. In original works, the finer the manufacture, the more 
suspicious is the article. 

In the five chapters between the fourth and the tenth, of the Life 
of Columbus, may be traced the manner in which this extraordinary 
man at last persuaded himself that the Uast Indies might be found 
by sailing westward. 

It is surely curious to observe the wavering and unexpected 
streams of light that penetrated through the great mass of darkness 
that lay before the contemplation of Columbus, — the strange raLxture 
of ancient authority and of modern report, of fable and fact, of truth 
and falsehood, out of which this enthusiastic, yet reasonable, projector 
was to create, as well as he could, conclusions convincing to himself, 
and, if possible, satisfactory to others. But it is not only curious, 
but useful ; that we may learn to understand the workings of the hu- 
man mind in extraordinary situations, surrounded by conjectures and 
possibilities, fair deductions and mistaken inferences, and wandering, 
as it were, alone and unprotected, over the doubtful confines of the 
reason and the imagination. In this manner we may be taught the 
respect that is always due to the suggestions and plans, however wild 
and imperfect they may at first appear, of schemers and projectors 
of every description, — men often of original and powerful minds, 
who must be hstened to with patience, and soothed and assisted by 
our calmer reflections, not ridiculed or repelled by indifference and 
scorn. Every encouragement ought always to be afforded to creative 
genius ; and amid a world where every thing may be obtained by 
enterprise, and nothing without it, no chance should be lost for the 
accommodation of our nature and the progress of human prosperity. 

Reflections like these are but confirmed by the chapters Avhich suc- 
ceed in the work now alluded to. The king of Portugal " gave ear," 



360 LECTURE XXL 

says the biographer, " to the admiral's proposals " ; but at last " re- 
solved to send a caravel privately to attempt that which the admiral 
had proposed to him " ; and the navigators employed, says the reci- 
tal, " after wandering many daj^s upon the sea, turned back to the 
islands of Cabo Verde, laughing at the undertaking, and saying it 
was impossible there should be any land in those seas." 

In this manner were to be treated the elevated views and generous 
nature of Columbus. When no further hope, therefore, remained for 
him in Portugal, and when his plans were, in consequence, submitted 
to the Spanish court, the observations of those judges who were ap- 
pointed to decide upon a man like this, a man whom they were total- 
ly unworthy to estimate, appear to have been these ; I will give them 
to you, because they are specimens of human reasoning on all such 
new occasions, and therefore instructive: — " That since, in so many 
thousand years as had passed since the creation, so many skilful 
sailors had got no knowledge of such countries, it was not likely that 
the admiral should know more than all that were then, or had been 
before." Others said, " The world was so prodigious great, that it 
was incredible three years' sail would bring him to the end of the 
east " ; and Seneca, it seems, was quoted against him. Others ar- 
gued, " That, if any man should sail straight away westward, as the 
admiral proposed, he would not be able to return into Spain, because 
of the roundness of the globe." The argument that follows, and 
which I will mention, may appear at first ludicrous, but it should 
rather serve to show you, as may the others, the manner in which a 
cause is prejudged by ignorance and indolence. " They looked upon 
it," they said, " as most certain, that whosoever should go out of the 
hemisphere known to Ptolemy would go down, and then it would be 
impossible to return ; affirming it would be like chmbing a hill, which 
ships could not do with the stiffest gale." 

" The admiral," as we are told by his biographer, " sufficiently 
solved all these objections" ; but it was in vain that he solved them, 
— it was in vain that this Hercules, in the infancy of his fame, stran- 
gled the serpents that hissed around his cradle. He retired, — he 
was obliged to retire. Five years were to be wasted in these fruit- 
less endeavours to satisfy and inform these arbiters of his fate ; and 
he was then to be dismissed with a civil rejection of his proposals. 

Yet some there were, as it appears, who were not insensible to the 
merit of this great man ; and he himself remained collected and un- 
moved, confident of success, and not to be beaten down by ignorance 
or insult. The assistance of Queen Isabella was procured for him, 
however slowly, by his protectors ; and he became, at length, the 
great Columbus of history, who unveiled to us the surface of our 
planet, and showed a new world to the civilized portion of man- 
kind. There is here, surely, much of encouragement to be found 
for the patrons of genius ; much of animating instruction for genius 



EAST AND WEST INDIES. 361 

itself; much of admonition to the presumptuous stupidity of inferior 
minds. 

The same interest, and the same moral, belong to the succeeding 
chapters. These describe the voyage of this fearless navigator over 
an ocean pathless and unknown, where every new occurrence was 
to his sailors an object of terror, and a reason for an instant aban- 
donment of the enterprise. If the weeds appeared, it was that 
rocks were concealed ; if they thickened, that their progress must 
soon become impossible ; if the winds were steady and favorable, it 
was to preclude them from all hopes of return ; if the magnetic 
needle varied, it was that nature was no longer nature ; and to please 
whom, his companions asked themselves, and for what purpose, w^ere 
these intolerable terrors to be endured ? It is clear from the narrar 
tive, that nothing but the extraordinary merit of Columbus saved him 
from destruction ; and that no human powers of sagacity, fortitude, 
and skill could have longer preserved him from the very natural de- 
spair of his sailors, when land at last appeared. 

Great military captains and conquerors have often been able to 
govern the minds of those around them, in situations of the most 
trying difficulty and danger. But they are themselves animated by 
fierce and impetuous passions ; so are their followers. Both leaders 
and followers, on these occasions, have at least land on which they 
can tread, and they have their swords in their hands. It may, at 
least, be known where and how they are to perish ; and they are in 
perils and alarms which others have experienced before them. 

But Columbus was a man of benevolent temper and peaceful mind ; 
with no resentments to exasperate his feelings, no lust of empire to 
inflame his reason ; animated only with the pure and innocent enthu- 
siasm of a projector, with the commendable love of true glory, and 
with sentiments of piety to his Creator. His associates were to be 
controlled in the midst of an ocean which no beings but themselves 
had ever presumed to enter. There Avas nothing near them but the 
sea and the clouds ; nothing above, below, or around them, but un- 
certainty, danger, or death. They were exiled from all existence : 
enterprise seemed no longer to have any meaning, courage any ob- 
ject. There was nothing on which they could fix their eyes, and 
no enemy whom they could attempt to subdue, but, standing before 
them, Columbus himself, single and unprotected ; a man of like na- 
ture with themselves, and the cause of all their sufferings. 

The merit of Columbus does not yet cease. The land had been 
discovered, his projects successful ; and he was then, on his return, 
to be overtaken by a tempest which threatened every moment to bury 
at once and for ever himself, his companions, and his fame. In this 
last and most overpowering calamity of all, he writes, and commits 
to the chance of the waves, the letter addressed to his sovereigns, — 
the letter so justly celebrated, — the monument of that presence of 
46 E E 



362 LECTURE XXI. 

mind, that piety, and that fortitude, which the visible approach of 
death, not only to himself, but his fame, could not disturb, and no 
situation of disappointment or affliction could apparently destroy. 

Pursuing his history, it is evident that an ordinary man would 
have been soon overpowered by the rebellions and mutinies which he 
had to encounter ; and even the mind of Columbus himself must be 
considered as fortunate in the use he made of the natural phenome- 
non of an eclipse to extricate himself from his dangers in the island 
of Jamaica. 

And as if nothing were to be wanting to recommend this extraor- 
dinary man to the regard of posterity, to the tenderness as well as 
admiration of future ages, he was destined to lead a life continually 
checkered with difficulties and defeats, disappointments and injuries, 
— marked with the most brilliant success, but marked also by mis- 
fortunes of the most overpowering nature, and outrages not to be 
endured ; to have inscribed, indeed, upon his tomb, by the command 
of his sovereign, that he had given Spain a new world, — but to have 
buried with him, in the same tomb, the fetters in which he had been 
sent home as a public offender and a convicted criminal. 

What I have now said will give you a glimpse (a most imperfect 
one) of the first memorable enterprise, the subsequent fortunes, and 
the extraordinary merits of Columbus. It was written many years 
ago, and I have now, in 1828, had my attention called to the Life of 
Columbus by Mr. Washington Irving. By the accession of his 
volumes, we have now the biography of Columbus ; as by Robertson's 
work we before had, and still have, the history. Mr. Irving's has 
been to me a very interesting production, sometimes marked with 
passages of great force and beauty ; and it contains every thing re- 
specting Columbus that can be wanted. He has had valuable sources 
of information, which he describes, and which were not within the 
reach of Robertson. Still, his volumes only show, as usual, the merits 
of Robertson. Upon looking over the historian's account once more, 
I see no mistakes, and no material omissions ; in a concise and calm 
manner every particular of importance is intimated to the reader ; 
and Mr. Irving has only told in the detail (but in a very interesting 
and agreeable manner, and I recommend his volumes to you) what 
our excellent historian had told before. 

Having thus alluded to the first and great hero of the general sub- 
ject, I must proceed to other parts of it. I come next to the con- 
quest of Mexico. 

We have here, also, original authorities, which may be procured 
and read. 

In the first place, it must be observed, that the great repository of 
all original documents respecting the New World is the Italian collec- 
tion of Ramusio, the work quoted by Robertson. Here will be found 
translated the Letters of Cortes to his sovereign ; memorials that so 



EAST AND WEST INDIES. 363 

particularly deserve our consideration. The First Letter seems lost, 
but it is sufficiently clear that it was not of any great consequence. 
The Second is of the greatest importance. There was a Latin 
translation made of two of these Letters (the Second and Third ; 
there are in all four) so early as in 152-1, in the time of Cortds, but 
the book is now very rare. It has lately been bought for our public 
library. 

Another original authority we have in the work of Bernal Diaz del 
Castillo, a faithful follower and fellow-soldier of Cort(3S ; a translation 
of which has been made by Mr. Keatinge, and was published in 
London in 1800. 

And lastly, as a comment upon the whole, we have the work of 
Clavigero, which has been translated. 

The History of Herrera, to which Robertson so constantly refers, 
is to be found, in the original Spanish, in some of our libraries ; and 
some of the decades, particularly those which relate to Mexico, have 
been translated into French. There is an English translation of the 
work of Herrera by Stevens, in six volumes, octavo, published in 
1725. 

I would recommend the Second Letter, at least, of Cortes to be 
perused. It is, unfortunately, too much after the manner of a state 
paper, and transactions are related in that general, official style which 
precludes those details, that enumeration of minute circumstances, 
those passing discoveries of pei'sonal feeUngs, which, when a distin- 
guished man is giving his own history to his friend or even to the 
world, often render his account a study for all subsequent ages. 
Still, the Letters of Cortes are an authentic, though summary, rela- 
tion of his proceedings from the planting of the colony at Vera Cruz 
to the conquest of the Mexican empire and the discovery of the South 
Sea. And when we know the facts from him and from other sources, 
it must always be a subject of some entertainment and curiosity to 
observe how such a man could represent such facts to his court. 

In reading the achievements of Cortes, as in reading the life of 
Columbus, it is to be wished that the mind should forget, if possible, 
its knowledge of the events ; for by this temporary oblivion alone 
can we feel all the interest of the story, and perceive the full merit 
of these Spanish conquerors. This merit is not merely that of other 
conquerors, — the courage and skill wliich can attack and overpower 
the enemies that appear before them ; in addition to this merit, they 
have one (unless, perhaps, the enterprise of Alexander against India 
be thought of the same nature) exclusively their own, — that of 
marching forward into an immense country, totally ignorant of what 
they were to expect, by what enemies they were to be attacked, by 
what dangers assailed. They were landed on the edge of a conti- 
nent, and then to proceed among nations of whom they knew nothing, 
over a tract of country which they had to discover, uncertain of their 



364 LECTURE XXI. 

provisions, or of any proper sources of intelligence. It is quite 
an event, for instance, in this history, that by a fortunate accident 
they acquired the means of understanding the Mexican language. 
If they were worsted, how were they to retreat ? But even if they 
conquered, Avhat were they afterwards to do ? Were they to remain 
in the capital of an unknown empire, — supposing they could get 
possession of it, — five hundred men, in that insulated situation, to 
keep millions of men in subjection ? 

This appears to me the more appropriate merit of Cortes and his 
followers, and the extraordinary interest of this history. At every 
moment, the reader may stop and ask himself, What must be the 
next result ? What measure is Cortes next to adopt ? Wliat will 
the Indians noiv attempt ? This sort of sensation of vmcertainty, of 
indistinct and strange expectation, which so belongs to this history, 
is not conveyed to a reader by the formal narrative of Cortds himself, 
but it is to a certain degree by Bernal Diaz ; and it would be entirely 
so, if he had not mixed and confused the parts of his story. The 
consequence of this want of proper distinctness and arrangement is, 
that the reader is not properly conducted from step to step, gradually 
and slowly, seeing nothing before him, nothing but the ground on 
which he stands, and therefore as uncertain as the Spaniards must 
themselves have been of what was next to follow. This want of ar- 
rangement in Bernal Diaz is unfortunate. The defect, however, is 
properly supplied by Robertson, whose relation, as it ought to do, 
gradually awakens, and then duly gratifies, expectation and anxiety. 

But to return to the Letters of Cortes, and to give a specimen or 
two of their contents. 

And, first, it may be curious to observe the sentiments by wliich 
these plunderers and destroyers of innocent nations conceived them- 
selves to be actuated. After having made a certain progress in the 
country, the soldiers, when they saw the numbers and the courage 
of their new enemies, murmured aloud, that it was folly to proceed, 
that retreat wovild soon be impossible, and that they would leave 
Cortes to go alone, if he persisted in his impracticable enterprise. 

" I told them to be of good courage," says Cortes, in his Second 
Letter ; " to remember that they were the subjects of your Majesty ; 
that Spaniards had never been wanting in proper spirit ; that we 
were so happily situated, that ours would be the fortune to acquire 
for your Majesty greater kingdoms and dominions than the whole 
world could elsewhere furnish ; that we ought to behave ourselves 
like good men, and like Christians who were to be rewarded by su- 
preme felicity in the life to come, — by greater honor and renown in 
this than any other generation had ever acquired ; and that they were 
to consider the assistance which was afforded us by that Almighty 
with whom nothing was impossible, and who evidenced his favor to 
our cause by the victories which he vouchsafed to us, — so fatal to 
the enemy, so bloodless to ourselves." 



EAST AND WEST INDIES. 365 

Such were the motives which Cortes produced to his sovereigns. 
He omits another, which he certainly produced to his soldiers, — the 
prospect of gold and plunder ; no doubt, the never-ceasing and 
strongly exciting cause of all that astonishing perseverance which 
the Spaniards, already brave, exhibited in the discovery and con- 
quests of the New World. 

Again, Cort^iS, as he proceeded in his enterprise, clearly perceived, 
that, though he had a powerful monarch and an immense empire to 
oppose in Montezuma and Mexico, still that he should find allies as 
he went along, and that, therefore, success was at least not impossible. 
" It was with the greatest pleasure," says he, " that I saw their dis- 
sensions and animosities, for a way was thus opened me for their sub- 
jection. ' From the mountain proceeds,' according to the proverb, 
' what burns the mountain ' ; and ' The kingdom,' says the Gospel, 
' that is divided against itself, cannot stand.' " 

One of the most daring achievements of the military skill and 
policy of Cort<3s was the seizure of Montezuma in his palace at mid- 
day. He takes no pains to varnish over this transaction to his court ; 
to such a court (that of the Emperor Charles the Fifth) it would 
have been unnecessary. " I thought," says Cortds, " that it would 
be of material consequence, and conduce to the advancement of your 
Majesty's state, and very much to our protection and security, if the 
aforesaid Lord Montezuma was placed within my power." He men- 
tions the pretences he made use of ; but he hurries over, with all pos- 
sible brevity, the distress and expostulations of the unfortunate 
emperor. " There was a long altercation between us," says he, " on 
these points ; and it would be tedious to enumerate what passed on 
each side." From a word that escapes Cortes, and from a single 
word only, may be conjectured the eifect that was produced on the 
nobles by this extraordinary outrage on the majesty of their sover- 
eign : — "In the deepest silence and with tears they placed liim on 
his htter " : " Flentes lecticte imposuerunt." 

Cortds says nothing of the real intrepidity and hardiness of this 
transaction ; and Csesar himself relates not his exploits with a more 
distant neutrality than through the whole of these Letters does the 
conqueror of Mexico. But Bernal Diaz del Castillo, who is more dis- 
posed to do himself justice, cannot help observing, — " Now let the 
curious consider upon our heroic actions ; first, in destroying our 
sliips, and therewith all hope of retreat ; secondly, in entering the 
city of Mexico after the alarming warnings that we had received ; 
thii-dly, in daring to make prisoner the great Montezuma, king of all 
that country, in his OAvn capital, and in the centre of his own palace, 
surrounded by his numerous guards ; and, fourthly, in publicly burn- 
ing his officers in front of liis palace, and putting the king in irons 
during the execution. Now that I am old, I frequently revolve and 
reflect upon the events of that day, which appear to me as fresh as 

E E * 



366 LECTURE XXI. 

if they had just passed, — such is the impression they have made 
upon my mind. I say that it was not we who did these things, but 
that all was guided by the hand of God ; for what men on earth 
would otherwise have ventured, their numbers not amounting to four 
hundred and fifty, to have seized and put in irons a mighty monarch, 
and publicly burned his officers for obeying his orders, in a city larger 
than Venice, and at a distance of a thousand and five hundred leagues 
from their native country ? There is much matter for reflection in 
this, and it merits to be detailed otherwise than in the dry manner in 
which I relate it." — Bernal Diaz, page 158. 

The horrible outrage to which Bernal Diaz here alludes certainly 
took place. Montezuma was obliged to deliver up to Cortes the offi- 
cers who by his own order had fallen upon a party of the Spaniards 
and had put some of them to death. Cortes ordered these unfortunate 
subjects and defenders of an invaded monarch to be burnt alive, he 
saw the sentence executed, and he even threw Montezuma himself 
into chains. Even these transactions he relates in no apologetical 
manner ; he seems to think it sufficient that Montezuma's officers had 
killed the Spaniards, — no further crime was necessary in them ; and 
that Montezuma had ordered them to do so, — this was an oflence suf- 
ficient in liim. " Et hoc modo," these were his words, " fuerunt 
publice in platea sine aliquo tumultu aut seditione combusti." Again: 
" Eodem die quo combusti fuere, Montezuma in compedes coUocari 
jussi." 

The last scene of degradation for Montezuma yet remained ; he 
was publicly to acknowledge himself the vassal of the king of Spain. 
Here Cortes does not disguise, for it enhanced his own merit with the 
court, the mortification and pangs of an outraged monarch and his in- 
sulted people. He gives the speech of Montezuma ; it was, no doubt, 
dictated to him by Cortes. Its purport was to show that the master 
of Cortds was the true descendant of the original head of the Mexi- 
can race, to whom they owed allegiance. " Such were the words," 
says Cortds, " which he delivered, with tears and sighs more and 
more deep than any tongue can adequately tell." The nobles par- 
ticipated in the anguish of their sovereign ; and even the Spaniards 
themselves, the unfeeling arbiters of his fate, could not escape from 
the contagion of the general sympathy. Nothing, it is probable, but 
such passions as avarice and ambition could have kept them firm to 
their purpose. 

In this Second Letter of Cort(^s may also be found a description 
of the city of Mexico. The facts he states are many and curious. 
The single fact of his seeing more than sixty thousand people every 
day meeting in a place for the purposes of buying and selling is quite 
sufficient to indicate the general civilization and importance of any 
community. " Est in eadem civitate platea ubi quotidie ultra sexa- 
ginta miUia hominum vendentium ementiumque cernuntur." 



EAST AND WEST INDIES. 367 

The Third Letter contains the account of the protracted siege and 
final conquest of the city of Mexico. The bravery of Guatemozin, 
the virtuous Hector of his Troy, is noted by Cort(5s ; but there is no 
account of the subsequent transactions which relate to this unfortu- 
nate prince, and which have consigned the principal followers of Cor- 
tds, and even Cortes himself, to the eternal reprobation of mankind. 

The work of Bernal Diaz has been described by Robertson, and 
must by the recommendation of such an author as Robertson be suf- 
ficiently introduced to your curiosity. I know of no portion of this 
original work that can be well omitted, as the whole is not long, and 
as it is not an historian writing, but an old soldier talking to us, deep- 
ly impressed, and very naturally impressed, with his o^vn merits and 
those of his companions, and with the extraordinary scenes in which 
he had been engaged. It is not easy to turn away from a recital 
which, however rambling and often confused, bears always its own 
internal evidence of fairness and truth. " Let the wise and learned," 
says this honest veteran, " read my History from beginning to end, 
and they will then confess that there never existed in the world men 
who by bold achievement have gained more for their lord and king 
than we, the brave conquerors, amongst the most valiant of whom I 
was considered as one, and am the most ancient of all. I say again, 
that I, — I mj'self, — I am a true conqueror, and the most ancient 
of all." — Bernal Diaz, page 501. 

The narrative of Bernal Diaz is always more minute and artless, 
and therefore very often of greater value, than even the Letters of 
Cort<5s ; and there is scarcely a point which can attract our curiosity 
that is not in some part or other touched upon. 

In the two quartos of the work of Clavigero, the last three chap- 
ters of the first volume, the fifth, sixth, and seventh, are worth read- 
ing, and may be compared with Robertson. His preface should be 
looked at, and the list of authors and original authorities. Most of 
the second volume is also worth reading ; and it is very agreeable, 
and in some respects instructive, to compare together Bernal Diaz, 
Clavigero, and Robertson. Clavigero is too minute, and Robertson, 
perhaps, not enough so. 

For the next division of the general subject, the conquest of Peru, 
I cannot but consider the account of Robertson as sufficient. Pizar- 
ro was, after all, a vulgar conqueror, and is from the first detested, 
though he seizes upon our respect, and retains it in defiance of ourselves, 
from the powerful and decisive nature of his courage and of his un- 
derstanding. The Peruvians, too, excite in us no emotions but those 
of the most genuine compassion. They repel not our imagination, as 
do the Mexicans, by the abominable rites of their superstition ; but 
neither, on the other hand, do they occupy our respect by any prop- 
er defence of their country. 

When the facts of the discovery and conquest of the New World 



S68 LECTURE XXI. 

have been thus investigated, the original subject of interest should 
then again present itself to your consideration. In this new world 
we have races of men who were never before suspected to be in 
existence. Are they, then, like ourselves ? If different, in what 
respect different ? Are there any new principles in human nature 
to be here discovered, or is there only to be seen a confirmation of 
the old ? What materials are here supplied for the consideration of 
the statesman, the moralist, the metaphysician ? It is with this sort 
of speculating spirit that the history of the New World and of its 
inhabitants should be considered anew, after the curiosity which be- 
longs to the mere narrative has been once satisfied. 

Robertson, in his references and in his own very calm and intelli- 
gent observations, opens a wide field for meditation to a contemplative 
mind, and has neither declined nor treated unworthily this important 
part of his general subject. But no observation upon it can be ex- 
pected from me, when it has not only been discussed by such a writ- 
er, but is in itself too extensive for a lecture. 

On the whole, the distinction Avliich Dr. Robertson has made be- 
tween the inhabitants of Mexico and Peru and all the other more 
rude nations of America will be found to contribute materially to a 
clear view of the whole subject. With respect to these latter (the 
more. savage nations), I would recommend, in addition to the pages 
of Robei'tson, the notes in Murphy's translation of Tacitus, " De 
Moribus Germanise. " These will afford you a general idea of the 
uniform effect of natural and moral causes upon human beings, by 
the comparison which is there exhibited between the characters and 
manners of our savage ancestors in the woods of Germany and of 
the savages in the woods of America. 

But with respect both to these more savage nations and also to 
the Mexicans and the Peruvians, I may remark, on the whole, that 
in this new world, as in our own, it is still the same human nature 
which appears before us. The metaphysician will find the human 
being still furnished with ideas exactly in proportion to his sources of 
sensation and reflection, and the same pervading influence of the 
principle of association. The moralist will see, in hke manner, the 
same original feeling of selfishness, modified more or less by the so- 
cial feeling ; the same hopes and fears, pleasures and pains, affections 
and passions. The naturahst will perceive the same influence of 
climate ; and the statesman, of pohtical institution. There are, no 
doubt, some very remarkable varieties in the Peruvian character, not 
only of a physical, but of an intellectual nature, — more, indeed, than 
Robertson can entirely explain ; but our knowledge of the political 
situation of the Peruvians, at the time of the Conquest, is very im- 
perfect, and our knowledge of the effect and operation of climate not 
adequate to the discussion of the subject. 

It may be added, with a reference to Robertson's account, that the 



EAST AND WEST INDIES. 369 

difficulty is not how the Mexican superstition became ferocious and 
terrible, but how the Peruvian could ever have been mild and inno- 
cent ; and he gives a description of the state of property in the Pe- 
ruvian nation which is scarcely to be understood, — not at all, but 
upon the supposition, that the Peruvians, with respect to waste land, 
were still in the situation of the inhabitants of a new country. 

On the whole, it may be observed, that, after we have entered 
upon the history of this new world, and for some time accompanied 
the march of Cortes, we perceive that it is our own fellow-mortals 
with whom we are still concerned, and that we might in many respects 
conceive ourselves to be still reading the history of Europe. We 
find a large tract of country divided into different states ; we see 
different forms of government, repubhcs and monarchies, a sort of 
feudal system, an aristocracy, different ranks and professions, wars 
and insurrections, conquests and rebellions, and the inhabitants of the 
New World not distinguishable in their principles of political action 
from the nations we are already acquainted with in the Old. 

The fii-st impression, too, of wonder, with which we hear of the 
conquest of a whole continent by a handful of Spaniards, abates as 
we proceed. Cortds conquered the great empire of Mexico as much 
by his Indian allies as by his European followers. That empire, it 
appears, had spread its conquests far and wide, and had everywhere 
become an object of hatred or terror by its ambition and harsh gov- 
ernment. The fall of Mexico is only one instance in the New 
World, to be added to all those in the Old, of the impolicy of such 
harsh government and of such unprincipled ambition. 

When the Spaniards appeared, the superiority of their arms and 
discipline made them be considered, and indeed actually rendered them, 
for all purposes of war, superior beings. In the battles of Homer, 
the only difference between the celestial and terrestrial combatants is, 
that the former cannot be killed. The same was the difference be- 
tween the Europeans and their opponents. For instance, the Indians 
had such a superiority of numbers in one of the engagements, that 
Bernal Diaz declares, " They could have buried us under the dust 
they could have held in their hands." But it appears, from the ac- 
count of the same eyewitness, that, when the field was afterwards 
walked over and examined, there Avere upwards of eight hundred 
Indians lying dead or dying of their wounds, and only two Europeans, 
one by a wound in the ear, and the other by one in the throat. The 
wonder is rather that the Mexicans defended their empire so well, 
"when we consider the nature of the Spanish soldiery, and the unfor- 
tunate description of the character of Montezuma. 

Pizarro, in like manner, had every necessary advantage over the 
Peruvians : a disputed succession, a civil war raging in the country, 
alhes Avherevcr he moved, and a people so inferior in the military 
art, that these new invaders were here also considered, and very 
naturally considered, as more than human. 
47 



370 LECTURE XXI. 

One topic, among many others, connected with the discovery and 
conquest of the New World, is that of the cruelties which were exer- 
cised by the Spaniards upon the defenceless Indians. These cruel- 
ties, while they have left an eternal stain on the Spanish name, have 
consigned to immortality the virtuous labors of Las Casas, the cele- 
brated bishop of Chiapa. His efforts in the cause of suffering hu- 
manity make a short, but interesting, portion of the History of Robert- 
son. The bishop's own book will, I think, disappoint expectation. It 
is somewhat too declamatory and sweeping in its statements. This 
mode of writing and of statement, however, rather presupposes than 
invahdates the general truth of the account. It is natural for a man 
to write thus, who is full of his subject, and of the heinousness and 
extent of the crimes he is reprobating. Such a man feels calmness 
and detail and minuteness impossible, and a sort of insult on his 
feelings. 

The empires of Mexico and Peru, their situation and conquest, are 
the great, and indeed the only, subjects in the history of the Spanish 
achievements that deserve our study. But there are other subjects 
connected with the East and West Indies that must be attended to, 
and on which I must, before I conclude, refer you to some sources of 
information. 

Wliile the Spaniards were stretching away to the west, the Portu- 
guese, who had been for some time creeping down the coast of Africa, 
at length doubled the Cape, finding in Vasco de Gama and Albu- 
querque the Columbus and the Cortes of the Eastern Indies. On 
this subject, information will be found in a few pages of the fifty- 
seventh Letter of Russell ; and a more elaborate account (though not 
more than should be read), in the first three sections of the eighth 
volume of the Modern History. Dr. Robertson's last work on India 
should be read, as a very complete introduction to the whole. 

As the Spaniards went round the world in one direction, and the 
Portuguese in another, they at length met ; and their concerns and 
conquests became extremely entangled. On this subject there is a 
great deal more than can well be considered in the eighth volume of 
the Modern History. There is an account of the Brazils in Harris's 
Voyages. The Brazils had been seized upon by the Portuguese. 
When Portugal fell under the dominion of the Spanish crown, the 
Dutch made their appearance everywhere as the invaders of the pos- 
sessions of their enemies. Of their conquests, settlements, and dis- 
coveries a sufficient account is given in the thirty-third chapter of 
the Modem History. A very tedious detail is also given of the liis- 
tory of the EngHsh East India Company ; and all these subjects are 
shortly despatched in the eleventh Letter of Russell.* AH these 
works refer to more elaborate accounts, which may be consulted, if 
necessary. 

* History of Modem Europe, Part ii., Letter 11. — N. 



EAST AND WEST INDIES. 371 

But the more interesting part of the English achievements in these 
new worlds was their attempt to estabhsh settlements in North Amer- 
ica. Of this very curious subject a very adequate idea may be 
formed from the beginning of a great work which Dr. Robertson did 
not live to finish, and which has been since very properly published 
by his son. The references Avill conduct you to the original and 
more circumstantial histories of others. The first half of the first 
volume of the Life of Washington, lately pubUshed by Mr. Marshall, 
will be sufficient to supply what Dr. Robertson did not attempt to 
give. 

The work of Raynal treats of every thing that can be sought for 
connected with these subjects. But as the author comprehended in 
his plan so extensive a field of inquiry, it Avas not possible that he 
should not be often inaccurate ; and as he does not cite his authorities 
(an unpardonable omission), he suifers the fate of Voltaire, and is 
seldom quoted but to be reprehended. If, however, the student will 
pursue through the work all the great leading historical events, with- 
out troubling himself with the Abbe's exclamations and superfluous 
eloquence, and without depending on the minuter parts of his relation, 
there can be no doubt that these celebrated volumes, thus perused, 
will be found not only agreeable, but highly useful. 

And now I must allude, in a few words, to a celebrated and some- 
what singular work, of which the title is, " An Account of the Euro- 
pean Settlements in America." I would recommend the perusal of 
this work before the details I have proposed have been begun, and 
again after they have been gone through ; that is, I would recom- 
mend the perusal of it twice. It may be a map of the subject in the 
first instance, and a summary in the second. 

This work has been always understood to be the work of Mr. Burke. 
Indeed, it could be attributed to no man of the period in which it was 
pubhshed, though a sort of Augustan age in England, but him. 
From the ease of the narrative, and the beauty of its observations, it 
might have belonged to Goldsmith. But there is a greater acquaint- 
ance with the commerce and politics of the European nations than 
could well be supposed, even in an author whose pen could touch up- 
on every thing, and upon every thing with success. Add to this, that 
the rapid and fine philosophy, the careless spirit, and all that afflu- 
ence of mind which so uniformly distinguished the works of Burke, 
are all as clearly discernible, in many parts of this anonymous and 
unpolished production, as in any of the most regular performances of 
that extraordinary man. As the work proceeds, the subjects diminish 
in real interest ; and the dehght, though not always the instruction, 
of the reader, diminishes also. It has been said, and with much ap- 
pearance of probability, that these volumes were written by Burke in 
conjunction with his brother, who had lived in the West Indies, and 
who must have had much local and valuable information to communi- 



372 LECTURE XXI. 

cate ; that the heavier parts were consigned by the orator to his more 
humble associate ; and that, after treating, himself, the more interest- 
ing topics in the earlier part of the work, he did no more than revise 
and retouch the remainder. 

The great misfortune of the work is, that subjects which deserved 
all the powers of Burke are often despatched in too summary a man- 
ner ; the great defect, that the author announces not his own sources 
of information, and leaves his readers without a wish to inquire after 
any other works but Harris's Collection of Voyages and Lafitau, — 
valuable works, no doubt, but Mr. Burke might have assisted an in- 
quirer with his observations on all the writers and documents which 
he had consulted, and such observations would have been inferior in 
value only to the work itself. 

During the period which we are now considering, the commerce of 
the world, and its knowledge, were rapidly progressive. There are 
those who have a pleasure in tracing out the steps which lead to per- 
manent alterations and improvements in the concerns of mankind. 
To minds of this speculative and superior cast the early collections of 
voyages may be recommended, — Hakluyt and Purchas. Works 
like these are very curious monuments of the nature of human enter- 
prises, human testimony and credulity, — of the nature of the human 
mind and of human affairs. Much more is, indeed, offered to a re- 
fined and philosophic observer, though buried amid this unwieldy 
and unsightly mass, than was ever supposed by its original readers, 
or even its first compilers. 

In addition to the sort of interest which belongs to these ancient 
accounts of the first efforts of discoverers and settlers, in the latter 
volumes of Purchas will be found very valuable abridgments of the 
original accounts relative to the achievements of the Spaniards in 
South America, particularly a curious exhibition of the Mexican 
painting ; and a very sufficient, though too favorable, idea may be 
here formed of Las Casas's book, of which the greatest part is given. 
These collections of voyages were followed by the collections of 
Churchill and Harris. But you must note, that, when Harris's work 
is quoted, it is the last edition, not the first, that is referred to. 

Before I conclude, I must observe that this most extensive subject 
of the conquests and settlements of the European nations in the East 
and West Indies divides itself into two great departments of inquiry : 
— First, What were the conquests made, and what was their history ? 
Secondly, What were the consequences of these discoveries and con- 
quests ? With respect to the first part of the subject, I have already 
endeavoured to introduce my hearers to such works as I conceive 
will be adequate to their information. The second part of the sub- 
ject (the consequences) belongs to the remaining portion of modern 
history. The discovery of these new tracts of country, these new 
sources of afiiuence and strength, as they were everywhere consid- 



WILLIAM THE THIRD. 373 

ered, necessarily affected, and has never ceased to affect, the politics 
of the nations of Europe. A new object of observation is thus opened 
to the philosophic reader of history ; and this is to be added to those 
which have before occupied his attention. 

Modern history thus appears to me to present two great fields of 
investigation, — the progress of the human mind, and the progress 
of human prosperity: the progress of th* human mind, as seen in the 
advancement of literature and science, and as seen in the different 
modes which the European nations have adopted for administering 
the blessings of government and religion ; to be traced, it must be 
confessed, through the wars and the disputes, foreign and domestic, 
which such most serious, most interesting subjects could not fail to 
occasion : the progress of human prosperity, as seen in the growth, 
multiplication, and extension of the accommodations of life ; to be 
traced, it must also be confessed, through systems of unenlightened 
legislation, through monopolies and restrictions, and, what is still 
more to be lamented, through atrocious enterprises of cruelty and 
conquest. To the former of these subjects, to the fortunes of the 
civil and religious liberties of mankind, we have hitherto more par- 
ticularly adverted ; for they form the most important and critical por- 
tion of the first part of modern history. But the latter, the subject 
of the internal trade, manufactures, commercial greatness, and rival- 
ship of the different states of Europe must hereafter share also our 
attention. When united, they constitute the great interest and in- 
struction of the more modern history of Europe and of the world. 



LECTURE XXII. 
1811. 

WILLIAM THE THIRD. 

The great subject of all history is the civil and religious Uberties 
of mankind, for on these depend their intelligence, their prosperity, 
their happiness, private and public ; and hence arises the extraordi- 
nary interest which belongs to the era of our Revolution. In conse- 
quence of that most fortunate event, these liberties were in England 
asserted with a success unexampled in the history of the nations of 
the earth ; and we must now, therefore, proceed to consider, as we 

IF 



374 LECTURE XXII. 

have already in part done, how far they were at that period, of 1688, 
adjusted and established, and what was their subsequent progress. 

The first object of our attention is the reign of William the Third ; 
then follows that of Queen Anne : both very critical. This will ap- 
pear very evident to those who examine them with any care, more 
particularly to those who have the faculty of placing themselves in 
the scenes that they see described by the historian, — a faculty of 
great consequence to those who are to read history. 

In the present lecture, I shall first mention the books that must be 
either consulted or read. I shall then make some observations on 
the parties by which these and subsequent periods have been distin- 
guished. I shall then allude to some of the constitutional questions 
which occurred in the reign of William, such as were then of impor- 
tance, and such as I conceive will be ever of importance to the inhab- 
itants of this country, while their free and mixed form of government 
remains. 

And now, when we enter upon the reign of William, we have no 
longer the assistance of the philosophic Hume. We have no longer 
within our reach those penetrating observations, those careless and 
inimitable beauties, which were so justly the delight of Gibbon, and 
which, with whatever prejudices they may be accompanied, and how- 
ever suspicious may be those representations which they sometimes 
enforce and adorn, still render the loss of his pages a subject of the 
greatest regret, and leave a void which it is impossible adequately to 
supply. 

In the absence of Hume, the Histories of Dr. Somerville will be 
found very useful ; nor are they as yet sufficiently known or duly 
estimated. 

Belsham will, I think, in like manner be found, for a considerable 
part of his work, very valuable, — spirited, intelligent, an ardent friend 
to civil and religious liberty, and though apparently a Dissenter, not 
a sectarian. In liis latter volumes, indeed, from the breaking out of 
the late French war in 1793, he has departed from the equanimity of 
an historian, and has degenerated into the warmth, and almost the 
rage, of a party writer. 

Of these authors (Somerville and Belsham) the use to the student 
will be the same. They will show him those more important subjects 
of reflection which the detail of the history contains ; they will ofier 
to him observations generally very judicious, and always the results 
of much more labor and investigation than he will himself be disposed 
to undertake. These more important subjects may, whenever occa- 
sion requires, be followed up in their references ; and some of them 
may be investigated in this more complete manner on account of their 
own general importance, and as a portion of the proper labor of a 
philosophic reader of history. 

For the detail, Tindal will be found not unworthy to be the succes- 



WILLIAM THE TfflRD. 375 

sor of Rapin ; equally diligent and copious, with the same attachment 
to the best interests of Englishmen, and, like his predecessor, a sort 
of general substitute, in the absence of other writers. 

But the great historian for detail, even more than Tindal, is Ralph. 
Such subjects as may be thought, from the representations of Bel- 
sham and Somerville, to be important, may be read with much ad- 
vantage in this author ; ill-humored, no doubt, but laborious and im- 
partial. Indeed, the whole work should be looked over, though it 
cannot, and for general purposes it need not, be regularly read. 

Burnet must, of course, be diligently perused, as an eyewitness 
and actor in the scene. His merits and defects seem to remain, in 
this part of his History, what they were from the first. He is often 
blamed, but his reports and representations are seldom without their 
reasonableness or their foundation, and must always be at least taken 
into account. Of late the credit of Burnet, even for accuracy, has 
been rising ; and since I drew up this lecture, a new edition of the 
work has been very properly published at Oxford, in which, for the 
first time, are given the abusive notes of Swift, the unfriendly com- 
ments of Lord Dartmouth, and the very excellent and constitutional 
observations of Speaker Onslow. 

Cobbett will supply the debates. In the appendix to the fifth vol- 
ume, there are several tracts published, which will give an idea of 
the views of reasoners and statesmen at the time, and there is not 
one of them that will not be found, in some way or other, valuable ; 
more particularly, Lord Shaftesbury's tract. No. 1, containing his 
objections to the representation of the House of Commons, and a 
scheme for its reform ; Lord Somers's, No. 4, — his explanation and 
vindication of the merits of the Revolution and the subsequent sys- 
tem ; Mr. Hampden's, No. 6, — a general description of the state of 
public opinion at the time, and of the constitution, and against an 
excise ; Mr. Lawton's, No. 9, is a sort of specimen of the discontents 
of the Whigs ; in No. 13 will be found all the arguments in favor of 
the liberty of the press ; No. 15 is worth reading ; and particularly 
Nos. 17 and 18, the Kentish petition, &c. 

The leading views that I should propose to the student, of the 
reign of William, are these : — Supposing himself, as usual, to be 
acquainted with all subsequent events, he is to consider, as the great 
object before him, first, the liberties of England, — secondly, the lib- 
erties of the Continent : that is, in other words, first, whether the 
Revolution of 1688 was destined to succeed, — whether the exiled 
family was to be restored ; secondly, whether the ambition of Louis, 
whether the aggrandizement of France, was to be checked. These 
seem the questions to which all others may be considered as subor- 
dinate, and within which they may, for the most part, be included. 

And first with respect to England. To all reasoners at the time, 
the ultimate success of the Revolution must have appeared very 



376 LECTURE XXII. 

doubtful. The student cannot have reflected upon the history of this 
Revolution in 1688, without observing the fortunate manner in which 
it was accomplished ; that the success of it was owing, not only to 
the great prudence and merit of William, but to the great mistakes and 
faults of James, and above all, to the zeal of the latter for the Ro- 
man Catholic religion. The Church party, and the Tory party, com- 
prehending so large a portion of the nation, always looked upon the 
crown as really belonging to the Stuart family. France was, in the 
mean time, considered not only as pledged to the cause of James, but 
as a power not easily to be resisted. Charles the Second, it could 
not but be remembered, though long a wanderer on the Continent, 
had been at last most triumphantly restored. Any good fortune or 
good management in James, the want of them in William, the death 
of either, a thousand contingencies, such as often take place in the 
affairs of the world, might obviously be sufiicient to reinstate the 
Stuarts in their hereditary right. They had been driven away by 
a movement forced and unnatural to the English nation ; their return 
was therefore, on the whole, very probable ; and while this probar 
bility continued, the cause of the Revolution must all along be con- 
sidered as still at issue. 

The very doubtful nature of the success of the Revolution will ap- 
pear, not only from a consideration of the state of opinions in Eng- 
land, and the general instability of every thing that relates to the 
politics of kingdoms, but from a due reflection on the intrigues that 
were carrying on, and it was but too natural to expect would con- 
tinue to be carried on, between the exiled family and many individu- 
als of great power and consequence in England, Scotland, and 
Ireland. We might have inferred the fact from the general princi- 
ples of human conduct ; but we are furnished with direct evidence 
to this effect in the state papers of Macpherson, which must therefore 
be examined. 

The journal of James himself, which Macpherson gives, belongs to 
our present subject, from March, 1689 ; it is not long, and should be 
perused. We have here particulars relating to the siege of London- 
derry ; to the battle of the Boyne ; the advances made to James by 
Churchill, afterwards the celebrated Duke of Marlborough ; by Go- 
dolphin ; a letter of duty and repentance by the Princess of Den- 
mark, afterwards Queen Anne ; communications with Russell and 
Shrewsbury ; and various documents and reports relative to the in- 
vasion of England, and the state of public opinion in different peri- 
ods of the reign of William. Among other letters the student will 
be surprised, and surely concerned, to find one from Churchill, in 
1694, which betrays the expedition then intended against Brest, the 
expedition which terminated (though not in consequence of Churchill's 
letter) in a manner so calamitous to the English forces and their high- 
spirited commander. These papers may reasonably give rise to a 



WILLIAM THE THIRD. 377 

variety of reflections ; and I would wish to refer my hearers very par- 
ticularly to the fifteenth chapter of Dr. Somerville, where they will 
find the subject of the intrigues with the exiled family well discussed ; 
and, on the whole, they wiU, I conceive, acquiesce in the general esti- 
mate formed by the historian. It is this : — " That, during the whole 
reign of WilHam, his person and government were exposed to ex- 
treme danger ; that, from his coronation, till his title was acknowl- 
edged by the French king, at the peace of Ryswick, a correspond- 
ence was constantly carried on between James and many persons of the 
first rank and influence in England ; that mdividuals of every party, 
and even some of those who had been the most zealous agents in the 
Revolution, were accessory to that correspondence ; that many con- 
spiracies were formed, and very considerable preparations made for 
restoring the authority of James ; and that even the most base and 
atrocious designs were set on foot to put an end to the power and 
hfe of William." 

But there were some circumstances that operated most happily to 
assist and support the establishment of the new government. For 
instance, it was difiicult, under the vigilant administration of WilHam, 
possessed of the military force of the kingdom, to erect the standard 
of revolt without the protection of a French army. It was diffi- 
cult, in the mean time, for Louis to see a sufficient chance of success, 
unless some insurrection first encouraged his interference. It was 
not easy for the parties to combine their measures and views. The 
personal character of James was ill fitted to recommend his cause. 
The character of William, on the contrary, was marked by great 
qualities which were worthy of the confidence of brave and intelligent 
men. The friends of James were even divided in their pohtical sen- 
timents ; some Avho were friends to liim meant (so endless are the 
mistakes of men on poUtical subjects) to be friends (can it be be- 
lieved ?) to the constitution, and by no means to establish arbitrary 
power. William was often absent from England, and the regency of 
Queen Mary was, on these occasions, conducted with a prudence and 
moderation that gained friends among every party in the nation, — 
not to mention that she Avas the eldest daughter of the exiled mon- 
arch, — and her rule was, therefore, more agreeable to the prejudices 
of the Tories. Her death only united the interests of William and 
the Princess Anne, and set the exiled family at a greater distance, 
by intercepting their more immediate return, and giving an opportu- 
nity of securing the descent of the crown in a line of Protestant 
successors. Lastly, as the constitution improved, all orders in the 
state became more and more alienated from the maxims of arbitrary 
prerogative, and were more and more disposed to a settlement which 
gave them a greater share and interest in the constitution of their 
country. 

On the whole, the Revolution in 1G88, while WilHam lived, ap- 
48 FF* 



878 LECTURE XXII. 

peared to succeed ; and on his death-bed, he had the gratification of 
reflecting, not only that he had maintained this great cause during 
his reign, but that he saw, through his exertions, the crown descend 
to Anne on the principles of the Revolution, and provision made for 
its subsequent transmission to the Protestant line, in exclusion of the 
exiled family. 

The next question, therefore, is. To whom are we indebted for the 
happy issue of so doubtful an experiment during this most critical 
period of the reign of William ? 

On inquiry, it will, I think, be found that the greatest share of the 
merit must be allotted to William himself ; but much will still remain 
to the great Whig leaders, and to their friends and adherents in the 
Parliament and the nation ; very little to the Church and Tory party, 
who acquiesced in the new order of things, and nothing more, and 
who negatively, rather than positively, contributed to its establish- 
ment. It was, on the whole, very fortunate for these kingdoms that 
the growing prosperity of the community had multiplied a description 
of men in the great cities and commercial and manufacturing towns, 
who were active, independent, and intelligent ; who were, therefore, 
favorable to the Whigs, and could be successfully opposed to the 
landed proprietors, — persons of great natural consequence and 
power, who in general had inherited, with their estates, opinions and 
feelings unfavorable to the civil and religious interests of mankind, 
derived from their too literal interpretation of particular texts in the 
Epistles. But these conclusions can be drawn only from a consider- 
ation of the conduct of all concerned, — that is, from the history of 
the reign. To that history I therefore refer you. 

With this inquiry will be found connected another, by no means 
unworthy of consideration, — the conduct of William with respect 
to the two great parties then in the state, the Whigs and the Tories. 

Every thing which a speculator on human nature could have an- 
ticipated with regard to the situation of the Prince of Orange, when he 
became king, was abundantly realized. William endeavoured to bal- 
ance between the two parties, — to retain the affections of the Whigs, 
and yet acquire those of the Tories, — to give his favor to the one, but 
not to exclude the other from his kindness. The propriety and wisdom 
of his conduct, under all the existing circumstances, can, of course, be 
estimated only by a consideration of the history of his reign in all its 
detail, and must, after all, be not a little decided by the general con- 
fidence of the reader in his sagacity and good sense. 

But, on the whole, he failed, and the failure of such a man is an 
example to show the difficulty of mediating between two parties, and 
the impossibility of receiving the proper benefit of the talents and 
virtues of both. No monarch ever possessed more knowledge of hu- 
man nature, more equanimity, more elevation of mind, than William ; 
yet he found it impracticable to harmonize to the purposes of his 
government men animated by principles and interests so discordant. 



WILLIAM THE THIRD. 379 

But the king, though failing in the manner and to the degree I 
have noticed, was successful in the main. He so triumphed over the 
difficulties of his situation, violent passions on the one side, and un- 
fortunate opinions on the other, that he at least supported the cause 
of the Revolution ; and though his own personal comforts and com- 
posure of mind were continually disturbed, and sometimes destroyed, 
the civil and religious liberties of a great people and of the Continent 
were, with whatever sacrifices, embarrassments, and dangei'S to him- 
self, asserted and maintained. This is a merit which will always 
place him high in the scale of estimation, even when compared with 
the greatest of his fellow-mortals. 

On the whole, the first Parliament in King William's reign was the 
Convention Parliament, which legalized the Revolution, and enacted 
the Bill of Rights. But this was the work of the Whigs ; and if they 
had done nothing more, they might, by these merits, have compen- 
sated for any subsequent faults, any faults but that of undoing their 
great work, and bringing the Stuarts back to the throne. This last 
crime, however, to the liberties of their country they neither did 
commit nor endeavoured to commit. It is painful, it is disgusting, it 
is astonishing, to find individuals among them corresponding with the 
exiled monarch, as if they were disposed to propitiate him, at least, 
and be considered as his friends rather than as his enemies, if for- 
tune, by any of her unworthy caprices, placed him once more upon 
the throne. Of this baseness there were too many of them guilty, — 
guilty as individuals ; but as a body, and as a party, they were never 
guilty. They were faithful to England and the best interests of 
mankind ; and they never failed to show a lively sense of the great 
cause which was at issue, whenever the personal safety of William 
was in danger, or his throne was seen, as it sometimes was seen, 
really to shake under him. This is their paramount merit to all suc- 
ceeding generations : they were the authors, the conductors, and the 
maintainers of the Revolution. 

The reign of Elizabeth is recommended by Hume to the particular 
study of those who would wish to understand the nature of the Eng- 
lish constitution ; so may, I think, the period before us. By the 
Revolution and the Bill of Rights, no doubt, the liberties of the coun- 
try received a most important advancement. But the constitution 
was settling, not settled ; and questions of great consequence to its 
interests w^ere agitated during the whole of this reign of William. 
We have the Civil List, the Place Bill, the Triennial Bill, the Trea- 
son Bill, the question of the liberty of the press, the question of stand- 
ing armies, of the responsibility of ministers ; and finally, we have the 
veto of the king more than once exercised, and even a sort of debate 
in the Commons upon this assertion of the prerogative. We have all 
these questions making their appearance in the course of a single 
reign of thii-teen years. They comprehend most of the points which 



380 LECTURE xxn. 

belong to the formation of a good government, and it is to these ques- 
tions, the debates upon them, the conduct of the two parties and of 
the king, that I would more particularly wish to call your attention. 

But when I recommend it to you to pursue these subjects through 
the debates of the Houses, and in some instances through the statute- 
book, I am obliged to confess that the debates themselves will on these 
occasions much disappoint your expectations. They have been taken 
down so imperfectly, that each of the speeches given seems to resem- 
ble the hints or heads of a speech put down by a speaker before its 
delivery, rather than the report of a speech already delivered. Many 
of the parts are unconnected with each other ; the sentences, as they 
stand, often unintelligible ; and passages in the speech of one member 
replying to passages in the speech of another which do not appear. 
All this was a necessary consequence of what was at that time con- 
sidered as a privilege of the House, one which the House ought al- 
ways to insist upon, — the privacy of their debates. Their privilege 
it is still, and ought always to be ; but it is now, very properly, insist- 
ed upon only occasionally, under some particular circumstances that 
seem to the House to require it. Instances of the assertion of this 
privilege occurred during this reign, in 1694 ; one Dyer, a news-letter 
writer, having presumed in his news-letter to take notice of the pro- 
ceedings of the House, he was summoned to the House, reprimand- 
ed, &c. ; and on the Journals appears the following order : — " That 
no news-letter writers do, in their letters or other papers that they 
disperse, presume to intermeddle with the debates or any other pro- 
ceedings of this House." 

No stronger proof need be given of the advanced state, not only of 
society, but of the political situation of the country, than the decided 
improvement that has gradually taken place in this important particu- 
lar. An estimate can now be formed, not only of the topics insisted 
upon by the speakers in either House, but generally of the relative 
beauty and eloquence of the speeches themselves. The judgment 
that may now be made, the criticism that may now be exercised, not 
only on the integrity, but on the ability, of the members of the two 
Houses, cannot but be of the most salutary consequence to them as 
well as to the pubhc. Posterity will be able to derive an entertain- 
ment and instruction from the Parliamentary debates, which is to us, 
during a long period of our annals, not at all, or but too imperfectly, 
supplied. It is in vain for us to inquire after the Parliamentary elo- 
quence of Hampden or Lord Bolingbroke ; but after ages will not be 
entirely without the means of appreciating the powers of the two 
great orators of our own days, — of Mr. Fox and Mr. Pitt, the De- 
mosthenes and the Cicero of modern history. 

But to return. In examining such questions as I have stated to 
occur in the reign of William, recourse must be had, for want of 
better materials, to the debates, which may be found in Cobbett ; and 



WILLIAM THE THIRD. 381 

if reference be had to his authorities, they will be found properly 
represented ; and concise, broken, and unsatisfactory as they may be, 
they may still convey much valuable instruction ; and from different 
paragraphs scattered over the speeches of a debate, a general notion 
may always be formed of the tone and temper of the period before 
us, and of the progress of the constitution of the country. Black- 
stone also, and the statute-book, must occasionally be referred to. 
The statute-book, it must always be remembered, is itself a history ; 
to a philosophic eye none so instructive. To convert it, however, 
into a history requires leisure, and capacity, and knowledge, and very 
patient habits of reflection and study. 

The subject of the civil list is embarrassed by what was then the 
mixed nature of the revenue of the crown. There is some account of 
this revenue in Blackstone. But the best notice of it, as far as re- 
lates to William's reign, is to be seen in Burnet ; and as the passages 
in his History are characteristic of the times and of the opinions of 
former statesmen, I recommend them to your perusal. 

It appears that the revenue was first given for a year, then for five 
years, then for life. At last, in the April of 1689, the revenue was 
properly distinguished into different parts, and it was resolved that 
six hundred thousand pounds should be allowed for the charge of the 
civil government, and seven hundred thousand pounds " towards the 
occasions and charge of the navy." 

To us, no doubt, it must appear that the distinction between the 
personal expenses of the sovereign and those that belong to the state, 
which were formerly confounded, is not only perfectly just, but some- 
what obvious ; that it was not only desirable, but necessary, that the 
crown should be furnished with a regular revenue of its own, either 
by inheritance or by the positive settlement of Parliament, and not be 
left to come continually to the House for pecuniary support, hke a de- 
pendent on a benefactor. But the sentiments which our ancestors 
had imbibed, not only from the analogies and general spirit of the 
constitution, but from the dreadful lessons of former events, are suffi- 
ciently plain from their speeches and resolves on all these occasions, 
and, as such, highly worthy of remark. 

A Place Bill was brought in ; by this bill all members of the House 
of Commons were incapacitated from holding places of trust and 
profit ; it was brought in by the Whigs, but at a time when they were 
in opposition. It was rejected by the Lords, but only by a very 
trifling majority, and not till after a very celebrated, though not very 
valuable or comprehensive, speech in favor of it by Lord Mulgrave, 
which you will see in Cobbett. When the Whigs were in power, it 
must be observed that the bill was again brought forward, was carried 
through the Houses, and lost only by the positive and very reason- 
able rejection of the king. The Commons were angry, and addressed 
Lis Majesty. They received a civil, though evasive reply, and they 



382 LECTURE XXII. 

then proceeded to comment very freely upon this reply ; but the 
power of the veto was not denied ; and when the motion for a further 
and more expHcit answer from the king was made, it was very prop- 
erly overruled by a majority of two hundred and twenty-nine to eighty- 
eight. The whole proceedings are very curious. 

It must be remembered that this Place Bill went to incapacitate 
all members of the House from holding posts and places of trust and 
profit. The bill was modified in tliis respect afterwards, when it was 
brought forward in Queen Anne's reign. It is a very different ques- 
tion, whether all, or whether some, are to be incapacitated. 

The third subject which I mentioned was the Triennial Bill. This 
bill was in hke manner brought forward by the Whigs in the House 
of Lords. It was passed by the Commons, two hundred and ten to 
one hundred and thirty-two on the first reading, and only two hun- 
dred to one hundred and sLxty-one on the second. The speakers in 
favor of it seem to have been the Whigs, and the arguments in sup- 
port of it were all drawn from their school of political reasoning. 
This bill was also rejected by the king. Two years afterwards, how- 
ever, the bill was once more carried through the two Houses, and at 
last received the royal assent. This bill, in the ancient Parliamen- 
tary manner of truck and barter, was coupled with a bill of supply ; 
and the consideration of this supply, united to the expectation of the 
queen's death, probably procured from the king that assent which he 
had before so positively denied. 

This statute is not, as has been represented, an infringement of any 
right or custom of annual Parliaments. No such right or custom 
ever existed since the known appearance of the House of Commons ; 
it was, on the contrary, a limitation of the length of Parliaments, 
which had been accustomed to sit till the crown thought proper to 
dissolve them and call a new one ; in Charles the Second's time, one 
and the same Parliament sat nearly eighteen years. The statute of 
WiUiam was to limit the continuance of any one Parhament to three 
years ; it was a most distinct infringement of the power of the crown, 
which in this point, as it then stood, was inordinate ; it was felt as an 
infringement, and so resisted, even by Wilham the Third. 

We owe this bill, and this happy alteration of the constitution in 
this particular respect, to the Whigs, which should be remembered 
by those who undertake to censure them for their Septennial Bill in 
the reign of George the First. 

The Treason Bill was revived and carried. By this bill it was 
enacted, that the accused should have a copy of his indictment, 
counsel to plead for him, not be indicted except on the oaths of two 
witnesses, and within three years of the offence ; that a list of the 
jury should be furnished, and a power to summon witnesses allowed. 
That provisions hke these, so natural and so indispensable to the 
cause of justice, should be still wanting in the year 1695, and in a 



WILLIAM THE THIRD. 383 

country like England, where of all other countries the principles of 
civil liberty had been most uniformly and successfully vindicated, — 
that enactments like these should still even in this kingdom be want- 
ing, — surely forms a very striking proof of the difficulty with which 
all efforts in the cause of pohtical right can be successfully made. I 
need, surely, say nothing of the merit of those men who engage in 
such attempts, or of the good fortune of the country where such ad- 
vantages are obtained. 

The reign of William is also remarkable for the sentiments and 
conduct of our ancestors on the subject of a standing army. Their 
jealousy was such, that the king was denied not only the continuance 
of his defence against Louis the Fourteenth, but even his Dutch 
guards, the companions of his victories and the followers of his doubt- 
ful fortunes ; an intolerable outrage, he could not but think, on his 
feelings of natural and honorable attachment. This subject is well 
treated by Somerville, and in pamphlets and speeches that may be 
found in Cobbett. In our own times, with our large masses of man- 
ufacturing population, such jealousy is in vain. 

The liberty of the press is likewise one of the subjects belonging 
to this remarkable period. I will dwell a little on the subject, on 
account of its importance. 

The first measure which a country naturally adopts is, to take the 
regulation of the press into its own hands, or rather, to leave the exec- 
utive magistrate to do so. It was, therefore, with us, at first regulated 
by the king's proclamations, prohibitions, charters of privilege and 
license, and finally by the decrees of the Star-Chamber. A licenser 
is among the first expedients resorted to by a government, and be- 
yond this stage in France the state seems never to have advanced. 

So slow is the progress of mankind on such subjects, that even the 
Long Parliament, while it demolished the Star-Chamber, assumed the 
very powers which the Star-Chamber had exercised with respect to 
the licensing of books ; and, as if the constitution was in this point 
to be benefited by no variety of change, a licenser was still the ex- 
pedient after the Restoration. This appears from the act made in 
the year 1662, when the subject fell again under the consideration 
of the legislature, or rather of Clarendon. The act itself should be 
perused. It is in the eighth volume of the Statutes. A licenser, 
I must repeat, was still the expedient. 

The langiiage of the preamble is the natural language of mankind 
on these occasions ; it is this : — " That by the general licentiousness 
of the late times many evil-disposed persons have been encouraged to 
print and sell heretical, schismatical, blasphemous, seditious, and 
treasonable books, &c., &c., for prevention whereof no surer means 
can be advised than by reducing and hmiting the number of printing- 
presses," &c. 

And what, then, is to follow ? First, " That no person or persons 



384 LECTURE XXIl. 

whatsoever shall presume to print, or cause to be printed, within this 
realm of England, &c., any heretical, seditious, schismatical, or offen- 
sive books or pamphlets, wherein any doctrine or opinion shall be as- 
serted or maintained, which is contrary to the Christian faith, or the 
doctrine or discipline of the Church of England, or which shall or 
may tend, or be, to the scandal of religion or the Church, or the gov- 
ernment or governors of the Church, state, or commonwealth, or of any 
corporation or particular person or persons whatsoever, nor shall im- 
port, publish, sell, or disperse any such book or books," &c., &c. 
These are very general and comprehensive terms. 

What, then, were the printers or authors to do ? As the terms 
were so general and comprehensive, how were they to be secure from 
offending ? Why, by the next clause, all books concerning the com- 
mon laws of this realm were to be printed by the special allowance 
of the Lord Chancellor, the Lords Chief Justices, &c., or one of 
their appointment; all books of history and affairs of state, &c., by 
the license of the Secretaries of State, &c. ; books of divinity, 
physic, philosophy, &c., by the license of the Archbishop of Canter- 
bury.* 

The penalties of the act were, that the printer, for the first offence, 
should be disenabled from exercising his trade for the space of three 
years, and for the second, be disenabled for ever ; with further pun- 
ishment of fine, imprisonment, or other corporal punishment, not ex- 
tending to life or limb, at the pleasure of the judges. 

Now here we have the first movement that is made by a state on 
this momentous subject. It wishes for knowledge, for inquiry, for 
literary exertion, for government, and for reUgion ; but for no knowl- 
edge and no inquiry inconsistent with the interests of either that 
government or religion which is actually established at the time. It 
therefore denounces every thing that is in its opinion heretical and 
seditious, and produces its licensers. And this I conceive to be the 
first stage of legislation on the subject. 

The next stage is, to lay aside the expedient of a licenser, to have 
no previous restraint on publications, but to give a general description 
of such books or writings as are illegal, and then to punish the au- 
thors or printers of any pubhcations that come under such general 
description. 

This is the second stage, and one of great improvement, — that to 

* The act designates four classes of books, with their respective licensers : — 1st, books 
concerning the Common Laws of the realm, to be licensed by the Lord Chancellor or 
Lord Keeper of the Great Seal, the Lords Chief Justices and Lord Chief Baron, or 
by their appointments ; 2d, books of History, or concerning any Affairs of State, to 
be licensed by the Principal Secretaries of State, &c. ; 3d, books of Heraldry, to be 
licensed by the Earl Marshal, &c. ; 4th, all other books, whether of Divinity, Physic, 
Pliilosophy, or whatsoever other science or art, to be licensed by the Archbishop of 
Canterbury and the Bishop of London, &c., or by either one of the Chancellors or 
Vice-Chancellors of either of the Universities. — N. 



WILLIAM THE THIRD. 385 

which you "will see Blackstone allude, and in which he seems to rest 
content. But much remains to be discussed and determined. For 
instance, What really are the general terms wliich the state makes 
use of? For, if general terms are to be used, there is no work, where 
the slightest freedom of thought is exercised, that may not be brought 
within their meaning. Here there is a great difficulty ; and yet 
how is this difficulty to be avoided ? What terms but general terms 
can be adopted ? No other, certainly ; it is therefore of very great 
importance what the general terms are ; and this reflection will im- 
mediately lead to another inquiry, — Who are to decide whether 
the publication in question fairly comes within the general description 
of the law or not ? The judges of the land, it will be answered, on 
the first view of the subject ; for such men can alone know what is 
the exact meaning of the general terms made use of, from their long 
famiharity with the phraseology of the laws ; and they must, from 
their situation, necessarily possess minds more enlightened, and un- 
derstandings more powerful, than can be expected to fall to the lot 
of ordinary jurymen. 

And thus we arrive at the completion of the second stage of legis- 
lation on the subject ; no longer a licenser, as in the first, but a law 
made in general terms, and the judges of the land left to decide 
whether an author has oiFended against the law or not. This is a 
situation of things much more favorable to the interests of mankind. 

But at length men mil reason thus : — What is it that the laws 
mean ? Only to prevent and punish such writings as are injurious 
to morals and religion, or dangerous to the state ? They mean noth- 
ing more ; they aught to mean nothing more. If, therefore, the 
writings are such that twelve ordinary men can see neither injury to 
morals and religion, nor danger to the state, in any reasonings or ex- 
pressions which they contain, what can, in fact, be the injury or 
the danger ? The province, therefore, of deciding upon such cases, 
it will be argued, ought to be withdrawn from the judges, who are 
not, on the whole, sufficiently unprejudiced and disinterested, and 
should be transferred to twelve ordinary men, to whom no such ob- 
jection, and certainly no very reasonable objection, can be made. 

Here we seem to have the third and last stage to wliich this most 
important subject can be brought ; a law in general terms, and a jury 
to decide whether the law has been broken. 

One point still remains, — the penalty. When the nature of the 
penalty has been previously described by the law in general terms, 
— imprisonment and fine, for instance, — the degree of it must be 
left to the discretion either of the jury or of the judges ; to which, 
then, of the two ? With whatever hesitation, we must intrust it to 
the latter, — the judges ; that is, to those who are accustomed to the 
use of power, to the exercise of their judgments on different cases, 
and who decide, happily for their country, in the face of the bar and 
49 GG 



386 LECTURE XXII. 

of that country. To men like these rather than to successive bodies 
of men like jurymen, who would each act upon views of their own ; 
whose punishments would, therefore, be capricious, and not to be cal- 
culated upon beforehand ; and who, being liable to be affected, still 
more than judges, by the passions of the hour, would make their de- 
cisions sometimes improperly lenient, and at other times preposterous- 
ly severe. 

Here I must leave the subject, but I must leave it with addressing 
three observations to those who wish to make it, what it highly de- 
serves to be, a subject of their meditation. 

The first is this, — that the law must unavoidably make use of 
some general terms to describe what it prohibits. The difficulty, 
then, is, to determine what those general terms shall be, — what 
words and phrases will best allow to society all the means of informa- 
tion, and yet secure to it the peaceable enjoyment of some of its most 
important interests. The difficulty is very great ; and it will be 
found more and more great, the more it is considered ; at the same 
time that it is the very point which must be labored, whenever any 
improvement in any existing system is thought of. 

My next observation is, that, as the jury is to decide whether the 
law has been violated, it is of great consequence how that jury is 
composed ; who is the officer that selects them ; in what manner, &c. 
Discretion must be lodged somewhere, no doubt ; but here is another 
point in itself difficult, and that should be well considered. 

My last observation is, that we have been obliged to leave the de- 
gree of penalty to depend on the good pleasure of the judges, and 
that therefore the subject of the liberty of the press cannot be con- 
sidered as one that can ever be dismissed from public anxiety ; be- 
cause, though judges are men who go through the duties of their 
situation with more uniform accuracy, integrity, and intelligence than 
perhaps any other description of public functionaries that can be 
mentioned, still it must be observed that they are not likely to be of 
themselves very favorable to the liberty of the press. They are men 
accustomed to observe the benefits, not of criticizing the laws and 
government of a country, but of administering them ; — peace, order, 
precedent, usage, these are the objects that naturally excite their 
respect ; the necessity of control, of punishment, of reverence for 
established laws and institutions, these are the considerations that are 
alone familiar to their minds. The habits of their lives, the learning 
they possess, lead to no other trains of thinking or sympathy ; and 
they are not likely to be very indulgent critics of popular feelings or 
even popular rights. Whatever be their personal integrity or pro- 
fessional ability, they are clearly distinguishable from the philosopher 
or patriot, who may be speculating both on them and the laws they 
administer and the government they serve, and the extent and ulti- 
mate wisdom of whose opinions they are never very willing to examine 
and understand. 



WILLIAM THE THIRD. 387 

They are not, therefore, very eligible dispensers of the penalties 
of the law, if any less objectionable could be found ; but none can, 
and here, therefore, is a difficulty not entirely to be overcome, — the 
unfavorable temperament of the judges. But the temperament of 
the judges will sympathize with the temperament of the surrounding 
society, the bar in whose presence they act, the houses of legislature, 
and every intelligent man in the kingdom. 

Discretion must always be lodged somewhere, but the manner in 
which it is exercised will always depend on the habits of thought and 
feeling known at the time to exist in the community ; so little can a 
constitution provide for its own administration and security. 

The liberty of the press is, therefore, a very faithful index of the 
state of the public mind and of the public happiness ; for the press is 
more or less restrained, — it can never be left without some restraint, 
from the very nature of some particular subjects, — but it is more or 
less restrained, as a country enjoys more or less a pure religion, and 
a reasonable government, a wide circulation of knowledge, and a 
general diffusion of commercial and manufacturing prosperity. 

To conclude my enumeration of important subjects, the student 
must not omit to consider the proceedings in the case of the impeach- 
ment of Lord Somers. I mention them for the sake of one conclu- 
sion that may, at least, be drawn from them, — the responsibility of 
ministers for every thing they do ; that they are not to shelter them- 
selves under any plea of deference to the opinions of their sovereign ; 
that they are not to advise or to act in any manner inconsistent with 
their o^vn views of propriety and policy, when the case before them 
is of sufficient importance. 

From a consideration of the debates and transactions of this period, 
the constitution appears to be in the act of assuming its last and more 
regular form. Its different parts must be looked upon as at that time 
falling, rather than as having already fallen, into their appointed 
places. Thus, we have in the cabinet administrations made up of men 
differing from each other in their principles ; in the Houses, the mem- 
bers of a party often opposing the measures of their friends in office ; 
the king giving his veto to bills that had passed the Houses, from his 
inability to resist them in any other manner ; the decisions of the 
Commons, and even of the Lords, very uncertain ; their debates 
stormy. Occurrences like these indicate a constitution settling, 
rather than settled. But the whole is, on this account, only the 
more interesting and instructive. 

The civil liberties of the country must, upon a review of the ques- 
tions and the proceedings to which I have now briefly alluded, be 
considered as in a state of rapid progress : and this it was natural to 
expect would be the case, when the king was seated on the throne on 
the popular principles of resistance to illegal rule ; when the patrons 
of arbitrary power vfere thrown into opposition, and therefore often 



388 LECTURE XXII. 

compelled to adopt language and measures favorable to civil freedom ; 
when the Whigs, who were now become the courtiers of the realm, 
could not but be influenced bj their old habits of thinking and feeling 
on constitutional questions ; and when the nation itself could adopt no 
sentiments favorable to arbitrary power without being immediately re- 
minded of James the Second, his judges and his priests, of Popery, 
and all the evils they had so narrowly escaped. 

With regard to the religious liberties of the country, progress had 
likewise been made by the passing of the Act of Toleration. 

The king's efforts in this great cause I have already noticed, — 
his somewhat unsuccessful eiforts. No brighter part of his character 
can be found. Of the Whigs, the best panegyric, as far as relates 
to this subject, may be seen in the accusations of their pohtical oppo- 
nents, the Tories, who always called them Dissenters, and represent- 
ed them as indifferent to the real interests of religion. This, how- 
ever, was not their fault. They were guilty of no indifference to re- 
ligion, but of a base fear of such accusations, and of a disgraceful 
compliance with the intolerant measures proposed to them, — pro- 
posed to them by those Avho were not unfrequently, on these occa- 
sions, their rivals for popularity, that doubtful criterion of public 
merit on many subjects, but above all on religious subjects ; for on 
religious subjects popularity can always be acquired by stigmatizing 
with terms of reproach, or pursuing with penalties or restrictions, any 
opposers of the estabhshed system. 

When, therefore, we mention the Toleration Act which William 
procured, we must not forget the penal acts that were also passed. 
The Papists, the Arians, the Socinians, fell more particularly under 
the persecutions of the legislature. These descriptions of men saw 
themselves proclaimed in different penal statutes, — the one, the Pa- 
pists, enemies of the state, who were not to exercise the offices of 
their religion, nor educate their children as they thought best, nor re- 
ceive the inlieritances of their fathers ; and the other, the Arians and 
Socinians, publishers of " many blasphemous and impious opinions," (I 
use the words of the act,) " contrary to the doctrines and principles 
of the Christian religion, greatly tending to the dishonor of Almighty 
God, and that may prove destructive to the peace and welfare of this 
kingdom." 

" If any Popish bishop, priest, or Jesuit whatsoever," says the 
third clause of the 11th and 12th of William, chapter 4th, " shall say 
mass or exercise any other part of the office or function of a Popish 
bishop or priest within these realms, &c., or if any Papist, &c., 
shall keep school or take upon themselves the education or gov- 
ernment or boarding of youth in any place within this realm, &c., 
every such person shall, on conviction, be adjudged to perpetual im- 
prisonment." If, on the contrary, any person should be convicted 
of sending his child abroad to be educated in the Romish religion, he 



WILLIAM THE THIRD. 389 

was to forfeit one hundred pounds, by the sixth clause of the same act. 
By the fourth chiusc, if a Papist took not the oath of supremacy 
(which a Papist could not take, — Sir Thomas More could not, nor 
Bishop Fisher, and they were therefore put to death), he was " dis- 
abled and made incapable to inherit or take by descent," &c., &c. ; 
and if, again, he was possessed of any capital in money, he was equal- 
ly disabled from purchasing lands. In the former case, the land be- 
queathed was even to go to the next of kin who was a Protestant. 
Such was the state of the pubhc toleration with respect to the Pa- 
pists. 

With respect to the Arians and Socinians, the act of the 9th and 
10th of William (c. 32, p. 275) declares, that, if any person, " hav- 
ing been educated in, or at any time having made profession of, the 
Christian religion within this realm, shall, by writing, pi'inting, teach- 
ing, or advised speaking, deny any one of the persons in the Holy 
Trinity to be God, or shall assert or maintain there are more Gods 
than one, or shall deny the Christian religion to be true, or the Holy 
Scriptures of the Old and New Testament to be of divine authority," 
sucli person shall, for the first oflFence, be disabled from enjoying any 
office, ecclesiastical, civil, or military ; and, if a second time convicted 
of the said crimes, " shall from thenceforth be disabled to sue, prose- 
cute, plead, or use any action or information, in any court of law or 
equity, or to be guardian of any child, or executor or administrator 
of any person, or capable of any legacy or deed of gift, or to bear 
any office, civil or military, or benefice ecclesiastical, for ever within 
this realm, and shall also suffer imprisonment for the space of three 
years without bail," &c. 

Acts of ParUament like these make a considerable approach to the 
excommunication of the Romish see in the Dark Ages. The truth 
of the doctrines, and of the principles which these acts were meant 
to propagate and secure, is no part of the question now before us. 
Truth cannot be so propagated, and must not, even if it were possible, 
be so secured. The intelligence and humanity of the present age 
would revolt from acts of Parliament like these. Such is the happy 
influence of general prosperity and of a free government, not only on 
the community, but on the mistaken men who forget, in the ardor of 
their zeal, and the supposed duties of their situation, all the rights of 
the human mind, and all the precepts of their divine Master. But 
these acts must ever remain portions of historical reading, as indica- 
tive of the nature of the human mind on these important subjects. 

Before I conclude my lecture, I must allude, however shortly, to 
the second object of inquiry which I originally proposed : the foreign 
politics of William, or the history of the civil and religious Hberties of 
Europe. 

The general description of this part of our labors may be short. 
Louis was everywhere the enemy of mankind ; William their defend- 

GG * 



390 LECTURE XXII. 

er. His campaigns against the celebrated Luxembourg, the peace 
of Rjswick, the two partition treaties, and the renewal of the general 
confederacy against France, just before the death of William, form 
the chief topics of examination and reflection. Particulars respecting 
these subjects may be found in the Memoirs of St. Simon ; in Bur- 
net's History of his own Times ; in the Hardwicke Papers ; and, final- 
ly, there is an estimate of the whole subject in Bolingbroke's Letters 
on History, in the seventh and eighth, — an estimate so full, so rea- 
sonable, and in every respect so masterly, that it is useless for me to 
do more than refer to it. 

Macpherson has written a History of Great Britain from the 
Restoration to the Accession of the House of Hanover. This His- 
tory may always be resorted to, whenever an unfavorable representa- 
tion is wanted of the conduct or character of William. Yet, even 
with respect to that part of our subject which is at present before us, 
the foreign politics of Wilham, Macpherson is obhged to allow, that 
William was placed at the head of his native country as the last hope 
of her safety from conquest and a foreign yoke ; that he was raised 
to the throne of Great Britain under the name of her deliverer from 
civil tyranny and religious persecution ; that he was considered in the 
same important light by the rest of Europe ; that the Empire, Spain, 
and Italy looked up to his counsels as their only resource against the 
exorbitant ambition and power of Louis the Fourteenth ; and that 
France herself, when she aifected to despise his power the most, 
owned his importance by an illiberal joy upon a false report of his 
death. Higher praise than this cannot possibly be received. Men 
who engage in the aifairs of the world, and have talents sufficient to 
influence and control them as William did, can neither appear to be 
nor can really be without decided faults. But if such be the bright 
side of any human character, we may turn away from its obscurities. 

Wilham was a patriot and a hero, but not a successful warrior. It 
was said that he had raised more sieges and lost more battles than 
any general of his age. But he was opposed to the most consummate 
commanders that even France has produced ; and his o^vn armies 
were composed of the officers and soldiers of difierent nations. " His 
defeats," says Bolingbroke, " were manifestly due, in a great meas- 
ure, to circumstances independent on him ; and that spirit which 
even these defeats could not depress was all his own. He had diffi- 
culties in his own commonwealth ; the governors of the Spanish Low 
Countries crossed his measures sometimes ; the German alUes disap- 
pointed and broke them often ; and it is not improbable that he was 
frequently betrayed." 

The peace of Ryswick was loudly censured by the French pohti- 
cians. It may be considered, on the whole, as a monument to the 
glory of William. With respect to the partition treaties, the letters 
in the Hardwicke Papers sufficiently exculpate William from the cen- 



WILLIAM THE THIRD. 391 

sures and accusations of his detractors. They have been defended 
by Bolingbroke as the only measure which the king had it in his 
power to take. 

The wars of WiUiam on the Continent may be read in the accounts 
of the reign. They are portions of history, and must be considered. 
I cannot enter into any detail or even description of such transactions. 
But I may stop, perhaps, to mention, that they are now connected 
with the hterature of our own country, — that they give hfe and 
beauty to some of the pages of Sterne. Steenkirk, and Landen, and 
Count Solms, and the siege of Namur are names well known to those 
who are conversant with the writings of that enchanting, but some- 
times objectionable author ; and the student, while he is travelling 
through the records of real calamity, and contemplating in history the 
picture of the dreadful warfare of mankind, may be often reminded 
of those more pleasing moments when he surrendered his fancy to 
the harmless campaigns of my Uncle Toby and Trim, and his heart 
to the story of Lefevre. 

I conclude this reign of William ^Ai\\ observing, that almost all the 
important subjects connected, not only with our constitution, such as 
I have mentioned, but also with our systems of internal and external 
pohcy, appear before us during this particular period. A union with 
Scotland was recommended by William ; the case of Ireland occurred, 
— its dependence on the legislature of England ; the affairs of the 
East India Company were considered ; the Bank of England was 
erected ; societies for the suppression of vice were formed ; the em- 
ployment of the poor was made a topic in the speeches of the king ; 
the coinage was adjusted ; experiments on finance and paper securi- 
ties were attempted ; and, above all, a funded debt was created. 

These are subjects and concerns that have subsisted to the present 
times ; and it is now the business of a reader of history to observe 
them on their first appearance, with the reasonings of our ancestors 
upon them, in the speeches and pamphlets of the day. They must 
be borne in mind, and traced, if possible, through their eifects, as we 
continue to read the history of the last century, down to the present 
hour. To them must be added, and to be treated in the same man- 
ner, and for the same reason, the great question of the interference 
of England in the affairs of the Continent ; an interference which now 
began more particularly to be a feature of our general policy, and 
therefore from tliis time began to be, as it has never ceased to be, a 
subject of controversy and discussion among our philosophers and 
statesmen. 



392 LECTURE XXIII. 



LECTURE XXIII. 



ANNE. 

The reign of William is interesting on many accounts : from its 
immediate connection with the Revolution of 1688 ; from the suspense 
in which the cause of that Revolution still hung, on account of the 
parties that then existed ; from the conduct of William to those 
parties ; from their conduct to him and to each other ; from their rela- 
tive merits ; from the relation which questions connected with the 
monarch and such parties must always bear to our mixed and free 
constitution ; from the great subjects that occurred in the course of 
the administration of Wilham, — the Civil List, the Place Bill, the 
Triennial Bill, the liberty of the press, a standing army, the responsi- 
bility of ministers, the veto of the crown ; from many other subjects 
connected with our internal and external policy, — the situation of 
Ireland, the East India Company, the Bank of England, questions 
of finance, of the coinage, the funded debt, and others, such as I 
could only mention. These are topics that must always deserve the 
attention of the inhabitants of these kingdoms. The very narrative 
of the reign is also interesting, and full of events and business, foreign 
and military, as well as civil and domestic ; add to this, that this era 
of our annals has always been highly attractive to the readers of his- 
tory. Wilham is not only the deliverer of England, but the great 
hero of the age in which he hved ; and they who have accustomed 
themselves to meditate on the characters of men, and the fortunes of 
the human race, have always lamented that the story of William has 
never been undertaken by any writer so distinguished for the superi- 
ority of his talents as to be worthy of a theme so splendid and so im- 
portant. 

This lecture was written many years ago, but at this moment, 
while I am now reading it, occurs the great subject of regret to literary 
men, and particularly those interested in the history of their country, 
the loss of Sir James Mackintosh. This great thinker and accom- 
plished writer was worthy of such a theme, and had undertaken it ; 
what he has left us is the best account we have of the first ominous 
proceedings of the reign of James the Second. 

The reign of Anne may be considered as a continuation of the 
reign of William. The great features are the same : national ani- 
mosity against France ; resistance to the aggrandizement and the 
ambition of Louis ; contending parties, the Whigs and Tories ; the 
constitution settling ; and the great question of the return of the ex- 
iled family — that is, the success of the Revolution, — that is, the 



ANNE. 393 

cause of the civil and religious liberties of England — still suspended 
on a shifting, doubtful balance. 

Our best means of information are likewise the same. St. Simon 
and the French writers, Burnet, Macpherson's Original Papers, the 
debates in Parliament, the Statute-Book and Journals, Tiudal, Bel- 
sham, and Somerville, are to be read or referred to in the same man- 
ner as before. To these sources of information, on which I originally 
depended, I can now add the Life of Marlborough, by Mr. Coxe, which 
has been lately completed from the Blenheim papers. To write the hfe 
of Marlborough is to write the history of the reign of Queen Anne ; 
and it is impossible for any one to judge properly of this part of our ' 
annals without a diligent perusal of this very entertaining and valua- 
ble work. I must also observe, that a very good idea may be formed 
of the general subjects connected with this period, and of the orig- 
inal memoirs and documents which should be referred to, by reading 
the appendix to Belsham's History : it is very well drawn up. 

My hearer, therefore, wiU bear in mind, that the great subjects 
before him are, the resistance made to Louis the Fourteenth and the 
power of France, abroad ; and at home, the different parties of the AVhigs 
and Tories, the various questions that arose connected with our civil 
and religious liberties, the union with Scotland, and, above all, the 
great question of the success of the Revolution, the security of the 
Protestant succession, and the chance of the restoration of the house 
of Stuart. 

We will first advert to the foreign concerns ; afterwards to the do- 
mestic. Many subjects must necessarily be omitted, and cannot even 
be mentioned, but they will occur to you in the reading of the liistory ; 
some can be but adverted to ; a few, and but a few, on account of 
their superior importance, may be a little dwelt upon ; but on this 
occasion, and on every other through the whole of these lectures, I 
am oppressed with the consciousness that I can attempt little more 
than barely lead up my hearer to the consideration of different sub- 
jects, and, ha\ang stated their claim upon his attention, must leave 
him to examine them for himself. 

The reign opens with the great War of the Succession. I have 
already observed, that questions of peace and war are peculiarly 
desernng of attention. They cannot be made too often or too 
much the subjects of your examination. No more valuable result 
can be derived from the meditation of history than habits of dis- 
passionate reflection, of caution, foresight, a strong sense of the 
rights of independent nations, of justice, and of humanity, on such 
momentous topics. It is on these occasions more particularly that 
the philosophic statesman is distinguished from the ordinary politician ; 
and when we suppose a minister in a cabinet, a member of either of 
the Houses in his place, an indindual at a public meeting, or an in- 
teUigent man in the private circles of social life, contributing to make 
60 



394 LECTURE XXIII. 

his countrymen more upright, reasonable, concihatory, patient, Avhile 
the tremendous issues of war are dependent, are hanging on the bal- 
ance of words and expressions, are dependent not merely on the wis- 
dom or the folly, but the good and ill humor of the parties, we, in 
fact, suppose a man elevated to something above his nature, and for 
a season assuming the character and office of a superior being, one 
whose voice breathes the heavenly accents of peace on earth and 
good-will towards men. In a government that is free, where every 
individual is educated upon a system, not of servility and baseness, 
but of personal dignity and independence, of submission to no power 
but the laws, — in such a government, one lik6 our own, there is no 
fear, on these occasions, of any want of sensibility to national honor, 
or of any contemptible sacrifice to present ease and short-sighted pol- 
icy. The danger is on the other side, and the habits of thought to 
be cherished in free and powerful countries are entirely those of a 
deliberative, cautious, and pacific nature. 

The opening of this reign of Anne afibrds an opportunity to the 
student such as I have described. One of these great questions is 
before him, that of the War of the Succession, a long and dreadful 
contest. Let him try to examine and consider it in all its bearings 
and aspects ; and in this manner he may school his mind, and prepare 
it for important occasions, when he is hereafter to interfere, as every 
man of education ought actively to do, in the concerns of the com- 
munity. 

I will now make an effort to give him some slight idea of Avhat I 
mean, some idea of the subject now presented to him ; and I must 
begin, in point of time, at some distance from the period more im- 
mediately before us. 

At the peace of the Pyrenees, Mazarin united the royal family of 
France with that of Spain. As this union might eventually make 
the princes of the house of Bourbon heirs to the crown of Spain, 
this was always looked upon as a masterpiece of poHcy. 

The first question which I would propose to the student is, whether 
it was so. The king of Spain was at the time sufficiently aware of 
the possible consequences, and he therefore took due care that all 
title to the future succession to the crown of Spain, of whatever kind, 
should be publicly and for ever renounced. This is a part of the 
case, and, being so, the policy of the whole transaction, as far as 
Mazarin is concerned, may, I think, be proposed as a question. 

Among other considerations that will occur to the student when he 
looks at the history, I would wish to leave the following more partic- 
ularly to his examination: — 

First, whether the avoidance of all causes of war, and all tempta- 
tions to war, is not the first point of policy to be secured. 

Secondly, whether the union of the families was likely to influence 
materially the future intercourse of the two nations, and make it more 



ANNE. 395 

friendly than it hitherto had been. If so, this was a most weighty 
consideration in favor of the measure. But, on the other side, and 

Thirdly, whether the union of the families did not rather hold up 
to the ambition of all succeeding princes of France the most tempt- 
ing object, the succession to the crown of Spain, and yet the renun- 
ciation render that ambition totally unlawful ; and whether the result 
was not, therefore, sure to be, that France would be engaged in a 
series of dishonest intrigues for the accomplishment of this object, 
and afterwards in a war with the powers of Europe for the mainte- 
nance of this unlawful object, if those intrigues were successful, — 
for the acquiescence of the powers of Europe, without a struggle, 
could not possibly be expected. 

Now, if this last question be answered in the affirmative, as well 
as the first, where was the policy of Mazarin ? 

The event turned out to be, that the prospect of the succession 
kept continually opening to Louis, and that his family at last became 
the regular heirs to the Spanish monarchy. But it must not be for- 
gotten that they were incapacitated by their renunciation. This re- 
nunciation was the very condition of their birth, for it was the condition 
on which Louis was married to the Infanta of Spain, in right of whom 
they claimed. 

I must now recommend the sixty-seventh chapter in Coxe's Aus- 
tria, where the subject of the Spanish succession is concisely and 
clearly stated, and on the proper authorities. The claimants were 
the Dauphin of France, the Emperor Leopold, who had married the 
next sister of the Infanta, and the Elector of Bavaria, who had es- 
poused the issue of this last marriage, and was the son-in-law of Le- 
opold. The father, Leopold, it must be observed, had induced his 
daughter, on her marriage with the elector, to renounce her claims 
to the Spanish succession ; but this renunciation was considered in- 
valid, as not having been approved by the king of Spain, nor ratified 
by the Cortes. 

In this state of things, the second question that I should wish to 
propose to the student is this : — "VVliat was our own King William 
to attempt to do ? How was he to prevent the succession fi*om de- 
volving on Louis, a prince who was not likely to adhere to his original 
reminciations ? As I have before recommended Coxe, I must now 
recommend the eighth letter of Bolingbroke on the Study of History, 
as the most ready and complete means of putting you into possession 
of all the reasonings that belong to the subject. I must suppose these 
parts, both of Coxe and Bolingbroke, read, particularly the latter. I 
cannot give any abridgment or representation of it, because I think 
the meditation of the whole of it the very best practice, to use a com- 
mon term, for a statesman, that perhaps the compass of our literature 
affords. 

William made a partition treaty with Louis ; that is, he compound- 



396 LECTURE XXIII. 

ed with him. He consented that ])art of the Spanish possessions 
should be transferred to France, the better to secure the remainder 
from the ambition of Louis ; and to this end, that the elector might 
receive, undisturbed, the main part of what, by inheritance, devolved 
upon him, — that in this manner the balance of Europe might be toler- 
ably well preserved, and yet a war avoided. These were his objects. 
Lord Bolingbroke contends that there was no other measure which 
William could possibly take. He is great authority, and cannot be 
supposed too partial to the monarch. 

Unfortunately, the elector died, and a second partition treaty was 
therefore to be made ; the archduke was substituted for the elector, 
and the terms made more advantageous to France. Now the point I 
would submit to your consideration is this : — Whether, besides the 
alternatives which Lord Bohngbroke enumerates as all that the case 
admitted of, another did not remain, — that of doing nothing at 
all ; not abandoning all care of the succession, but taking no distinct 
measure, — certainly none but with the privity of, and in conjunction 
with, the court of Spain. To parcel out the dominions of an inde- 
pendent kingdom, however agreeably to the general interests of 
Europe, and from the best of motives, without the interference or 
consent of that kingdom, was in itself unjust, and therefore not to be 
thought of ; and was at the same time so offensive to Spain, that it 
could not possibly have any other effect but that of throwing her into 
the arms of France, for the sake of preserving the integrity of her 
empire and the dignity of her crown. 

What line of poHcy, in the mean time, was the emperor to pursue ? 
Of this there can be little question ; he was to send to the court of 
Spain a minister of attractive manners, and, by conciliating at the 
same time his own Hungarian subjects, to leave himself in possession 
of the full force of his empire, in case he had to contend with France. 
The emperor did neither : he neither sent a minister of an agreeable, 
accommodating temper, nor did he relax bis harsh, severe system 
of policy to his Hungarian subjects. It seems impossible for the 
haughty and ceremonious ever to think there is any thing of value in 
the world but dignity and form ; and the policy of mild government 
is a secret which, on some account or other, can never be discovered 
by those who have an opportunity of exercising it. 

But to return to the succession. The king of Spain died, and, 
most unfortunately, at last made a will in favor of the French line. 

Here comes the next question : Was Louis to accept the testa- 
ment? On this point must be read, not only Lord Bohngbroke, but 
that part of the Works of St. Simon which relates to the succession ; 
it is not long. In De Torcy's Memoirs will be found the defence of 
Louis, who did accept the testament ; and in Mably's " Droit Pubhc 
de r Europe" (not his History), an argument in opposition to the 
reasoning of De Torcj, and in favor of adhering to the treaty of par- 



ANNE. 397 

tition. Many other books might be referred to ; but these will be 
foimd very ample to supply the reader with materials for his meditar 
tion. He is to suppose himself placed in the cabinet of Louis, and 
then to consider what advice he would have given. 

In the third volume of St. Simon's Memoirs, and in De Torcy, 
will be found accounts of the debate that actually did take place in 
the presence of Louis. There is some little difference in the repre- 
sentations of these two authors with respect to the part whicli the 
speakers took ; and Madame de INIaintenon was consulted, according 
to St. Simon, which is positively denied (though it is somewhat im- 
possible to suppose that she was not) by De Torcy. 

The question debated was, whether the king should accept the tes- 
tament, or adhere to the second partition treaty ; and the case sup- 
posed was (which was, indeed, the fact), that the succession was to 
be offered instantly to the house of Austria, if declined by the French 
monarch. On the one side it was observed, even in the cabinet of 
Louis, — " The national faith is pledged " (I translate from the 
French writers) ; " and even in point of mere advantage, more will 
in fact be gained by the partition treaty than by placing the French 
Une on the throne of Spain ; the princes of which will soon lose their 
partiality to France, and become as jealous of her power as have 
hitherto been the princes of the house of Austria. If we accept the 
testament, a war must follow ; Europe will necessarily oppose itself to 
what will then be thought the colossal power of France. We have 
already had one war ; we are now only taking breath ; we are our- 
selves exhausted ; so is Spain ; of a new war it will be for us to sup- 
port all the charge. We have here, therefore, before us a train of 
consecpxences of which the final issue no one can presume to tell ; but 
in the gross, and at once, it is easy to pronounce that it is but com- 
mon prudence to avoid them by adhering to the partition treaty. 
France, by this proof of her good faith, will conciliate all Europe, — 
Europe, which she has seen leagued against her because she has been 
considered as aspiring, like the house of Austria, to universal monar- 
chy ; and if she now accept this testament, will the truth of these ac- 
cusations admit longer of a doubt ? " 

Such was, according to the more probable account of St. Simon, 
the statement of De Torcy himself, — offered by him as the statement 
of one side of the question. But such were entirely, and stated as a 
proper estimate of the Avhole of the case, the sentiments of the Due 
de Beauvilhers, the tutor of the Duke of Burgundy, the discerning 
and good man who had selected Fenelon to assist him in his momen- 
tous office ; and similar to these are always the sentiments of discern- 
ing and good men on all such occasions. These are the natural and 
weighty topics that are insisted upon by all such reasoners, when 
peace and war can be made a question : national faith ; the opinions 
of surrounding nations on our conduct ; what there is, or what there 

HH 



398 LECTURE XXIII. 

may be, of justice in their accusations ; the advantages that may as- 
suredly be deriv^ed from peace ; the evils that inevitably result from 
war ; the calamities that will certainly, the very serious ruin that it 
is possible, at least, may^ result from dangerous experiments. 

In the instance before us, the successes of Marlborough, the ap- 
pearance of such a commander among the enemies of France, could 
not, indeed, have been expected by Louis or liis counsellors. But even 
according to the ordinary nature of events, there were not only pos- 
sibilities, but there were probabilities ; and there were certainties 
sufficient to induce the Due de Beauvilliers to insist, as he did insist, 
on the solid wisdom of the counsels which he recommended. 

The chancellor, on the contrary, too much disposed, as it is thought 
by St. Simon, to sacrifice to the wishes of his master, (such men will 
always be found among the counsellors of princes,) presented to 
Louis views more splendid and reasonings more attractive. He found 
it easy to show how fitted were the kingdoms of France and Spain to 
constitute a great empire under the dominion of the house of Bour- 
bon. There was no difficulty in depreciating the advantages pre- 
sented by the treaty of partition, or in rendering suspected the policy 
of any system to which William, the great enemy of France, had 
become a party. It was not difficult to show that it must always 
make a very material diiference to France, whether there were seated 
on the throne of Spain princes of the house of Bourbon or princes of 
the house of Austria, however interested the former might at length 
become in the prosperity of the particular kingdom which they 
governed. These were topics of fair debate, provided the question 
could ever have been brought to a point where it was proper to dis- 
cuss them. 

The chancellor also insisted, that, since the treaties of partition 
were made, new circumstances had occurred which rendered them no 
longer binding: the testament, for instance, had been made in Louis's 
favor. This is the sort of dishonest reasoning that on all such oc- 
casions is produced, and it is therefore universally instructive. For 
the chancellor omitted to state, that the testament had been procured 
by the intrigues of France, and that Louis was thus to profit by his 
own wrong. 

Again: " France," said the minister, "by refusing the testament, 
will gain, not the character of moderation, but that of pusillanimity ; 
will become an object of ridicule, not of respect, to surrounding 
nations, as was our good Louis the Twelfth, and Francis the First, to 
Ferdinand, Charles the Fifth, the Pope, and the Venetians : not, 
indeed, that the point of honor is against us," said the chancellor. 
" Can it be supposed that such a succession as that of Spain is ever 
to fall into our hands without a war ? Even to the treaty of partition 
the emperor will not assent. And if, then, we are, on every suppo- 
sition, to have a war, is it not better to fight for the proper benefits 



ANNE. 399 

of success, after first possessing ourselves of what is already within 
our grasp? Let us at least contrive not to show ourselves to the 
world unworthy of the high fortune to which we are so unexpectedly 
called." 

These also are, I think, arguments universally instructive ; for it is 
by considerations of this kind that nations are always inflamed, their 
passions excited, and their judgments betrayed by their orators, states- 
men, and princes. It is even by considerations of this kind that 
they who should counsel others are themselves led astray ; and these, 
therefore, as they continually occur in history, become the genuine 
instruction of history. 

On the whole of the case, Louis might accept the testament. He 
did so. The defence of this measure will be found in De Torcy, and 
in the reasons given by the chancellor in St. Simon. 

Secondly, he might have rejected the testament, and adhered to 
the remaining partition treaty. This measure is proposed and sup- 
ported by the Abbe de Mably. 

Lastly, he might have done neither. The whole question is argued 
by Lord Bolingbroke. But when he considers it under three different 
views, — the view of right, of policy, and of power, — the first, that 
of right, is surely too loosely determined, and too hastily dismissed. 

The fact was, that, when the Spanish line was originally connected 
with the French, every precaution was taken by the Spanish monarch 
to prevent a crisis of the nature that afterwards took place, and all 
future title to the crown of Spain, whether by treaty, will, testament, 
or otherwise, was renounced. Louis the Fourteenth, therefore, should 
not have left William to suppose that the treaties of partition were at 
all necessary. He should not have thought it honorable to receive 
any advantages which could be offered him onl}'' on the supposition 
that he was not likely to fulfil his original engagements. On the 
same account he should not have accepted the testament, for to ac- 
cept it was contrary to the spirit and meaning of the most positive 
and solemn engagements. The testament itself would never have 
been made in his favor, if he from the first had openly and sincerely 
disclaimed the succession, and had spoken from the first steadily and 
clearly the language of uprightness and honor. Whatever right the 
monarch of Spain might have to offer Louis the succession by his tes- 
tament, Louis had no right to receive it. The offer had been made 
in consequence of a long series of intrigues, all of them in every re- 
spect, and from the first, dishonorable to him and base. Their suc- 
cess could give Louis no right which belonged not to him before. He 
was not to profit, as I have before observed, by his own wrong. 

The question of ambition and aggrandizement, the considerations 
that alone weighed with him and some of his counsellors, maj^ be dis- 
posed of with a rapidity that would have been inconceivable to Louis 
and his cabinet. To France, above all kinirdoms, the most effective 



400 LECTURE XXIII. 

means of aggrandizement were peace, and justice, and honor. Her 
people full of genius and activity, her territories pregnant with the 
most varied and inestimable advantages, she had only to defend her- 
self, and, if possible, keep Europe at peace, and she could not fail of 
being prosperous and happy. 

The politicians of the world have never ceased on these subjects to 
commit, as did first Mazarin, and afterwards Louis, the most cruel 
mistakes. The gain of one country has always been supposed the loss 
of every other : colonies are to be fought for, and commerce is to be 
fought for, and kingdoms are to be fought for, and all for the sake of 
prosperity and power. Human life is to be wasted, all the proper 
materials of strength and accumulation are to be dissipated and anni- 
hilated, to be directed to the purposes of destruction, and every 
experiment is to be attempted but one, the only proper and rational 
experiment, that of making governments gradually more free, the laws 
more equal, and the maintaining of peace. 

Turning now from the Continent, the next question before us is the 
conduct of our own country, and the point to be determined is, 
whether we had no honorable or safe alternative but war. William 
the Third had but just time before his death to decide that we had no 
other. He thought the ambition of Louis left no other. 

The reign of Anne opens with the speeches of the queen to the Privy 
Council and the two Houses, with their answers. Mention is here 
made of measures entered into to reduce the exorbitant power of 
France, to obtain such a balance of power and interests as may 
effectually secure the liberties of Europe. This is the language of 
reason and sound policy. But the causes of the war are more distinctly 
shown in the declaration of war itself, and the question then is, 
whether the acknowledgment of the pretended Prince of Wales by 
Louis, under all the circumstances of the case, was such an affront to 
the Enghsh crown as could be vindicated only by a war, and whether 
representations had been made to Louis, on the subject of his aggres- 
sions and offences, sufficiently patient and conciliatory to render the 
war on our part a war for the defence of the balance of power in 
Europe, and therefore for our own dignity and safety ; whether no 
reparation could be procured to our honor, but by arms ; whether the 
offence was sufficient to justify such an extremity ; whether it was 
reasonable to expect that the affair of the succession could now be 
materially altered for the better by an appeal to force, and the re- 
newal of the calamities of Europe. 

These are questions that may fairly be supposed open to discussion, 
for the national animosity to France was, on all occasions, very strong, 
and even Tories and Whigs united when a sentiment was to be ex- 
pressed of hostility to that kingdom. 

But whatever may be the decision of the student on the general 
question (and it may turn out to be very different from what he might 



ANNE. 401 

at first have expected), let him carefully remember, that it was to 
reduce the exorbitant power of France, and to vindicate the honor of 
the English crown, insulted by the acknowledgment of the pretended 
Prince of Wales, — that these were the objects of the war, and that war 
was, on every supposition, no longer to be maintained when these 
objects were once accomplished. All this is, I say, to be w"ell re- 
membered ; for we may remember it, perhaps, with some advantage 
hereafter, when we come to the remaining transactions of the reign, 
— those more particularly connected with our foreign politics. This 
war with France is the great centre on which they all turn, and there- 
fore, with respect to our foreign politics, the two great points of 
attention which I shall propose to you are, — first, the character 
and victories of Marlborough; secondly, the use that was made of 
them. 

On these subjects the historical works of Mr. Coxe must be studied : 
first, his House of Austria ; secondly, his Memoirs of the Kings of 
Spain; and lastly, and more particularly, his Life of the Duke of 
Marlborough. 

This last work I have had to consider since I drew up my present 
lecture. I have had to modify a little my opinion of the Duke of 
IMarlborough. I can no longer consider him as so betrayed by a 
spirit of personal ambition as I had once suspected ; for he seems not 
to liave been more ready to persevere in the war against France than 
Godolphin and others, and sometimes to have been more reasonable ; 
and I have a still stronger impression of his amiable nature in do- 
mestic life. 

Of his talents for public life, I could not have entertained a higher 
opinion than I had already formed ; the same must have been always 
the opinion of every reader of history. The great Duke of Marl- 
borough has always been his proper appellation, and he is only made 
greater by being made more known from the publication of Mr. Coxe ; 
nor can it be doubted that he would appear greater still, the more the 
difficulties with which he was surrounded on all occasions could be 
appreciated. These difficulties, however, may now, from the work 
just mentioned, be partly estimated : the impetuous temper and 
consequent imprudence of a wife whom for her beauty, her talents, 
and her aifection he naturally idolized ; the low, narrow mind and 
mulish nature of the queen he served ; the unreasonable wishes and 
strange prejudices of the men of influence in his OAvn country ; the 
discordant interests and passions of different states and princes on the 
Continent ; the pertinacity of the field deputies of Holland, whom he 
could not send over into the camp of the enemy, their more proper 
station, and to whose absurdities it gave him the headache to Usten. 
As we continue our progress through the pages of j\Ir. Coxe, the 
queen, the court, the houses of legislature, the nation, fall deeply into 
the shade ; the duke is dismissed. 

51 HH* 



402 LECTURE XXIII. 

" Diram qui contudit hydram, 
Comperit invidiam supremo fine domari." 

He is actually sued for the expenses of the workmen at Blenhehn ; 
is obliged to retire to the Continent ; and it is there, not in his own 
country, that he is to see his victories remembered and his merit 
acknowledged. 

In Tindal's Continuation of Rapin, and now more completely in 
Coxe, may be read the history of his military exploits ; and it is here 
that Marlborough seems to tower above all praise. It would be diffi- 
cult to find any commander in any age or country to whom he can be 
thought inferior ; he might rather seem to have united the merits of 
them all. He had the praise of Hannibal ; for he had to oppose the 
armies of one great military nation by armies composed of many differ- 
ent nations. He had the praise of Csesar ; for, though an enterprising, 
he was a safe commander ; he lost no battle ; he failed in no siege ; he 
was no desperate knight-errant, like Alexander in ancient story, or 
Charles the Twelfth in modern. He lived not, like Attila, or Tamer- 
lane, among barbarous nations, when the event of a single battle 
decided the fate of an empire, and when, if fortune once smiled, her 
smiles were afterwards superfluous ; nor did he live, like the great 
conqueror in our own times, the emperor of France, in a revolutionary 
age, when the new and dreadful energies of a particular nation could 
be seized upon and directed against surrounding nations, — against 
armies formed on a different model, statesmen obliged to deliberate 
under a different system, and governments submitted to different 
habits and principles of action. 

The Duke of Marlborough was in no favorable situation like any of 
these creatures of dynasties or destroyers of kingdoms ; much the 
contrary. He flourished when war had been reduced to a science, 
and when likewise it could be waged in no sweeping or convulsive 
manner; he had to do Avith regular governments, orderly statesmen, 
soldiers animated by no fury of enthusiasm, political or religious; 
princes, magistrates, financiers, officers civil and miUtary, individuals 
in all their divisions and departments, moving, each of them, after the 
prescribed rate and fashion of society in its most civilized and appointed 
state ; nay more, he had to sway the factions of England, to animate 
the legislative bodies of Holland, to harmonize the members of the 
Germanic body, and all to the one single purpose of overpowering on 
the Continent the vast, concentrated, prompt, and matured strength of 
France, — an object, this, which no human art or genius could ever, 
before or since, be properly said to have, by regular military warfare, 
accomplished. Even the great William, trained up amid a fife of 
difficulties and of war, with an intrepid heart and a sound understand- 
ing, was able only to stay the enterprises of Louis, — successfully to 
resist, but not to humble him. It was for Marlborough to teach that 
unprincipled monarch the danger of ambition and the instability of 



ANNE. 403 

human grandeur ; it was for IMarlborough to disturb his dreams of 
pleasure and of pride, by filling them with spectres of terror and 
images of desolation. Of Marll)orough might be said, in a far more 
extensive sense of the words, what was afterwards said of Lord Chat- 
ham, that with one hand he wielded the aristocracy of England, and 
with the other he smote the house of Bourbon. 

The great praise of Marlborough is, that his glory was reached step 
by step, by no sudden indulgence of fortune, by no single eifort of 
military skill and valor. Enterprise succeeded to enterprise, cam- 
paign to campaign, and the result was always the same, — progressive 
fame, and victories and triumphs either accomplished or prepared. 
If commanders were sent against him who made the slightest mistake, 
victories like Blenheim and Ramillies were the consequence. If a man 
of consummate skill, like Vendome, was opposed to him, he consent- 
ed to attempt nothing impracticable. No success improperly inflamed 
his expectations ; yet could he show, as in his campaign with Villars, 
that no necessity of caution, no respect for his opponent, excluded 
from his mind the chances at least of success, and he could seize 
them with effect, and prove, that, whatever might be his circum- 
spection, he was equally gifted with the powers of military invention 
and the spirit of military enterprise. 

The career of other great generals has always been marked by 
varieties of chance and change, of light and shade, of success and 
defeat. But the panegyric of Marlborough is contained in a single 
word, — he was always right; that is, he proportioned well his means 
to his ends, and did not, like other statesmen and generals, mistake 
passion for wisdom, wishes for possibilities, and words for things. On 
the whole, though in his character as a man some failings must be 
allowed, parsimony for instance, (the result so often of the necessity 
of economy in early life,) and the fault, the crime, of corresponding 
mth the exiled family, — on the whole, a degrading and a most un- 
worthy attention to liis own interest, — such was his good sense, his 
military genius, the charms of his address and appearance, and his 
high and commanding qualities of every description, that he must 
even now be considered, what Lord Bolingbroke was compelled to 
call him in his day, the greatest of generals and of ministers. 

Turning now from the character of the Duke of Marlborough, who 
won the ^dctories that distinguished this reign, to the use that was 
made of them, though no difterence of opinion can exist with regard 
to the first, much may with regard to the second question : — IIoav 
fiir the allies were or were not unreasonable in their demands ; which 
of the parties was most in fault during the negotiations for peace, 
particulai'ly during the first, that at the Hague. 

I cannot repeat too often, that questions of this sort are among the 
most profitable portions of study which can belong to the readers of 
history. We may not be able always to understand by what varie- 



404 LECTURE XXIII. 

ties of character or of personal interest, in the agents or in the prin- 
cipals, negotiations break off or terminate with success ; but by being 
removed to a distance, we can take a commanding view of what were 
the real interests of the parties at the time. Such speculations are 
well fitted to prepare us for the discussion of similar subjects when 
we come to be ourselves concerned, to save us from unreasonable 
terrors or extravagant hopes, and, above all, to prevent us from mag- 
nifying points, for wdiich we have been contending, into an importance 
which does not belong to them, and which temporary importance be- 
comes to succeeding politicians not unfrequently a subject of surprise, 
compassion, or even contempt. 

The authors you must consult are Dr. Somerville, Coxe, Tindal, 
De Torcy, and, lastly, Swift's pamphlet on the Conduct of the 
Allies, — a pamphlet most effective at the time, but disgraced by the 
most vulgar matter and exaggerated statements, and therefore now 
very edifying as a specimen of what a party pamphlet may be, and 
not unfrequently is. 

I cannot attempt, for want of time, any discussion of this great 
question. You will see what is said very fully and distinctly by 
Coxe. I cannot think, for my own part, that proper use, that the 
right use, was made by Maidborough and Godolphin of the victories 
of Blenheim and Ramillies ; and I cannot think so, even after the 
perusal of every thing that this valuable historian has delivered to 
the contrary, in his Life of the Duke of Marlborough. 

I must now remind you, as I apprised you I should, of the reasons 
for the war which were given when it first broke out. It is curious to 
remark the manner in which the tone of the allies altered, and their 
views enlarged, with their victories. This may be very natural, but 
it is not entirely and viltimately wise. A war is not to be entered 
upon without a grave and specific object ; but when success has enar 
bled a nation to obtain that object, (and this had surely been ef- 
fected by the great battles just alluded to,) upon every principle of 
wisdom as of humanity, the war must close. If new objects are to 
arise, and to be considered as indispensable to peace, the system of 
warfare is then converted into a system to each nation the most pro- 
tracted possible, and therefore the most ruinous possible, — a system 
more protracted than the passions of our nature, violent as they are, 
at all require. Peace is the great cause of human nature ; it is the 
great secret of prosperity to all nations, collectively and individually. 
It is, therefore, the common policy of all ; not to say, that, even ac- 
cording to the shortrsighted notions of rivalry and selfishness, a suc- 
cessful nation often carries on a war too long; more is lost by the 
expense of an additional campaign than the advantages of a cam- 
paign do or can repay ; and, what is of still more consequence, the 
fortune of the contest may alter. 

Again, it should have been considered that those who propose fair 



ANNE. 405 

terms of peace, as Louis did, never fail of securinsr a most advanta- 
geous alternative. They obtain either a peace or a just cause. Louis, 
for instance, could not bring the allies to grant him honorable condi- 
tions (hard terms are never the true policy) ; he therefore published 
those which they had insisted upon, and he had it then in his power 
to say, as he did say, to his subjects, in a public address, " If it had 
depended on me, you should have enjoyed this blessing which you so 
earnestly desire, the blessing of peace ; but it must be procured by 
new efforts ; the immense sacrifices I have offered are of no avail. I 
can perfectly sympatliize with all that my faithful subjects must en- 
dure, but I am persuaded they would themselves recoil from condi- 
tions of peace as repugnant to justice as to the honor of the French 
name." These considerations were not addressed to the French peo- 
ple in vain, and they never will or can be addressed in vain to any 
people by their rulers. 

It is true, that, when the successes of the allies were so great, it 
then, as the Whigs thought, became to them a question, whether the 
opportunity was not to be taken of attempting to deprive France of 
all the additions which she had made to her power since the peace of 
"\yest[)halia ; but surely it should rather have been thought (and long 
before this extreme point of depression in the affairs of France had 
occurred) that the failure of the succession in the family of Spain, 
and the provisions of the will of Charles, created a conjuncture the 
most unfortunate that could possibly have happened, one from which 
it was not in the nature of things that Europe should be able entirely 
to extricate itself ; that the people and grandees of Spain had clearly 
decided against the pretensions of the house of Austria and the pro- 
jects of the allies ; that, if Europe was to be protected from the am- 
bition of Louis, some effort of a very different nature must be made ; 
that the transfer of Spain and the Indies to the house of Austria was 
impossible, — was, at all events, the least feasible project that could 
be attempted ; and that, on the whole, taking into account the natural 
and honorable feelings of a distinguished monarch like Louis and a 
great nation like France, and again the same natural and honorable 
feelings of the grandees and people of Spain, — taking into account 
these important points, surely it should have been thouglit that all 
that was reasonable, and at all events all that was practicable, might 
have been procured by the allies at an early period immediately after 
the battle of Ramillies, or even before, and certainly during the ne- 
gotiation at the Hague. 

The Whigs ought, surely, to have been eager to make the best bar- 
gain for Europe which they could, from the obvious probability that 
the queen, who always hated and feared them, as they well knew, 
would contrive to get other ministers, and the consequence be a 
peace on terms much less advantageous to England and the Conti- 
nent than they could themselves obtain. They might easily see how 



406 LECTURE XXIII. 

difficult it was to keep up a combination of powers against France, 
and how many chances and how many reasons might make a war un- 
popular. 

These I conceive to be some of the points for you to consider ; and 
you should fix your attention on early periods in the war, immediately 
after the battle of Ramillies, and rather on the negotiations that pre- 
ceded than those that took place at Geertruidenberg ; the peace 
should have been made long before the conferences at Geertruiden- 
berg. They who would decide this question in the shortest time 
possible may take into their consideration a few pages in the differ- 
ent chapters of Coxe's Austria, and Somerville's History of Queen 
Anne. 

I cannot but observe, as I am finally quitting this subject of the 
use which the allies made of their victories, that, in every free gov- 
ernment, it is the interest of the members of a cabinet, even with a 
view to their own personal aggrandizement, to proceed as much as 
possible on a system of peace ; for the uneasiness which is occasioned 
by the pressure of war is very easily converted by their political op- 
ponents into the means of dislodging them from their power. In all 
free governments, those who make a war, as was the case in the pres- 
ent instance, seldom make a peace ; war comes at last, with or with- 
out due reason, to be unpopular ; and the war and its advisers are 
discarded together. 

Again, from the whole of the War of the Succession, it is evident 
hoAV great must always be the difficulty of supporting a combination 
of many states against one. Their interests, or at least their own 
views of their interests, are seldom the same while the war is carried 
on, still less when peace begins to be thought of. It is very difficult 
to combine them so as to render them successful for any long period. 
Prosperity disunites them, from jealousy ; adversity still more, from 
views of self-preservation. 

In combinations of different powers, the great duty of all is dis- 
interestedness. In this respect the Whig ministry of England set an 
example highly creditable to their characters as wise and honorable 
statesmen. They might mistake (it is a great question) the wisdom 
of the case at the proper season ; but their language and their views 
were, resistance to the ambition of France, the establishment of the 
general interests of Europe. 

But the question is, whether they suffered not the justice of the 
cause at last to be transferred to the French monarch. He had re- 
course to negotiation, was unsuccessful, and then appealed to his 
people and to the world. I must ask again, — Were the allies and 
their ministers sufficiently attentive to the claims of humanity and 
to all the suggestions of sober policy at home and abroad, on this 
occasion, and in the course of these successes ? To me it appears 
not. 



ANNE. 407 

If the rulers of mankind would not mix their own passions in the 
contests of nations, it is impossible that these appeals to negotiation 
should not be more frequent, it is impossible that wars should be 
drawn out to the protracted period we so often witness. All parties 
would be thrown more and more into a state of deliberation ; would 
be reminded of the desirableness of peace ; that it is the proper and 
only end of all war ; that the real causes of hostility are always ex- 
aggerated ; that in these cases there is nothing to be met with but 
misapprehension, fury, and absurdity. But the whole system of 
national policy is mistaken, and cabinets, instead of considering how 
their own nation may be extricated from a contest with safety and 
honor, think only how the enemy may be reduced to the lowest pos- 
sible state of depression, how their own views of political aggrandize- 
ment may be realized, how their own particular nation may be left 
hereafter without an equal, and the rest of mankind be taught to fall 
down and worship themselves and their countrymen. I cannot fur- 
ther allude to this question, and it must now be left to your own dili- 
gence and curiosity. 

As you proceed in the general history, you will find the influence 
of Marlborough and the Whig ministry gradually decline, and at last 
a new Tory ministry formed, and a peace concluded. These events 
will be found sufficiently explained in the authors I have already re- 
ferred to ; and after their details have been perused, the account 
which the Duchess of jNIarlborough herself gives of her conduct, from 
her first coming to court till the year 1710, should by all means be 
read. It is not long, is sometimes important, and always entertaining. 

But peace was at last made, and made by the Tories. Some 
opinion should be formed of the merits of it, and of the negotiations 
that led to it. 

To the account that is given by the regular historians should be 
added the third volume of the Memoirs of De Torcy, It is still the 
French statement and view of the case, but even as such it should be 
read. The work, however, is not only in many places characteristic 
of the nation to which the author belongs, but the notices that are to 
be found of the English people and of the views and characters of the 
parties of our island are often amusing and instructing. It may 
serve to display the nature of negotiations, the difficulties that con- 
tinually arise, and the patience and dexterity that are always neces- 
sary to compose the differences of belligerent powers, even when the 
negotiators themselves feel and know that it is their interest to come 
to an adjustment. 

When the detail of these transactions has been read in De Torcy 
and our common historians, the Correspondence of Bolingbroke, 
which was not long ago published by Mr. Parke, should be looked at. 
It touches only on the surface of these important negotiations, but, 
after the detail is known, the rapid allusions and brief notices that 



408 LECTURE XXIII. 

are taken bj the Secretary Bolingbroke, frora time to time, of these 
affairs, are not without their interest. Those of Prior's letters which 
appear here are hvelj and entertaining ; so are, indeed, those of 
BoHngbroke ; but from a correspondence of this sort we expect to 
acquire a greater insight into the transactions to which they refer 
than, it must be confessed, we can here obtain. 

The merits of the peace of Utrecht was a question which you will 
perceive, from the occuiTcnces that took place in and out of Parlia- 
ment during the close of this and the opening of the succeeding reign, 
extremely agitated the public mind. There is a short disquisition on 
the subject in the twentieth chapter of Somerville, to which I must 
refer. The historian there arrives at a conclusion which appears to 
me reasonable, — that the peace was censurable rather as being dis- 
proportioned to the success of the war than as having fallen short of 
the ends of the grand alliance. 

The question of the peace, as between the Whigs and Tories, may 
be seen argued in the eighth letter of Bolingbroke on the Study and 
Use of History, and in the reply of the first Horace Walpole.* It 
cannot be denied that the French court saw that it would be the per- 
sonal interest of the English ministers to make a peace ; that of this 
advantage France was ready, most ungenerously to those ministers, 
to avail herself; and that the English ministers exerted themselves 
in no proper manner to preclude France from any such advantage. 
They in no respect showed, as they ought to have done, that, though 
desirous of peace, as good and wise men should always be, — that, 
though cooler and more equitable in this important respect than the 
Whigs, — still, they were as determined as the Whigs to make a 
common cause with Europe against the power of France ; and that, 
whatever France might conceive with respect to their personal inter- 
est as leaders of a party in England, they would still do nothing in- 
consistent with their character as the arbiters (for such they were at 
the time) of the great interests of the most civilized portion of man- 
kind. 

De Torcy, through the whole of the third volume of his Memoirs, 
cannot help repeatedly contrasting with pleasure the existing and the 
former situation of France ; and these expressions, connected with the 
attendant circumstances of the case, amount to something like a re- 
proach to the Tory ministers, with whom France had now to deal, in- 
stead of Marlborough and the Whio;s. 

Again, it cannot be denied that Harley, the first minister in the 
Tory administration, by the shuffling, temporizing, and narrow nature 
of his mind, was totally vmfit to compose the differences and adjust 
the interests of Europe at that remarkable crisis. Bolingbroke 
should have been the Tory minister, not Harley, if any great and de- 

* Horatio Lord Walpole, brother to Sir Eobert. See Memoirs, by Coxe. — N. 



ANNE. 409 

cisive alteration was to be made in the policy and measures of the 
country, and if a peace was to be attempted. England would not 
then have been disgraced by some of the wretched and even dis- 
honorable measures that were resorted to. Bohngbroke, in his very 
curious close of his eighth letter, seems often to defend more than he 
can approve, — to defend measures of which certainly he would not 
have been the author, and to some of which, it is to be hoped, if 
prime minister, he would not have submitted. 

To the general train and object of Bolingbroke's very able and 
spirited reasonings, the Memoirs of De Torcy seem to me, though 
little intended for any such purpose, to be a very adequate reply. 
The question is not, whether the Whigs made a proper use of their 
success in war, when they came to negotiations for a peace, but, when 
that question has been decided, as I think it must be, against the 
Whigs, the question is, whether, next, the Tory ministers made fair 
use of that success, and whether they conducted themselves in a 
spirit of good faith with their allies, or proper sympathy with the 
great interests of their country. This second question must, I think, 
be determined against them, — decidedly, and even with indignation. 

Since I wrote the lecture which I have now delivered, the work 
of Mr. Coxe has appeared, his Memoirs of the Kings of Spain of the 
House of Bourbon. Every subject that I have now alluded to is 
here treated very fully, and I must refer to it. I have not found 
any occasion to alter what I had written. I do not admire the Tory 
ministry any more than Mr. Coxe ; but whether the Whigs, from the 
first, were sufficiently moderate and disposed to peace, is another 
question. Mr. Coxe's Avork is in many places entertaining, and is, 
on the whole, a valuable accession to our liistorical information ; but, 
in the present state of the world and of literature, I suspect that 
much of the work will be passed over with a slight perusal by the 
general reader. 



LECTURE XXIV 



ANNE. 



The reign of Anne Is distinguished, even in the annals of England, 
for the violence of its politics. Party violence has been not uncom- 
monly a topic of censure and lamentation -with good men, and their 
accusations and reproaches have been urged often with sincerity and 
sometimes with reason ; but care must be taken on these occasions, 
62 II 



410 LECTURE XXIV. 

both by those who are disposed to make these indiscriminate indict- 
ments, and those who are disposed to listen to them. It is in itself 
rather a suspicious circumstance, when men who are at all conversant 
Avith the business of the world are found expressing themselves very 
strongly or very often against the violence of parties or the fury of 
factions. In a mixed and free government, there will naturally arise, 
as I must for ever repeat, two great and leading divisions, — those 
who lean to the side of authority, and those who lean to the side of 
privilege. Questions unlike in name and form will often involve the 
same general principles, and men are not, therefore, always as incon- 
sistent as they seem. Trains of measures will often emanate from 
one point, and proceed in the most strictly logical succession, and 
must therefore be supported and resisted always by the same men. 
It is, therefore, not possible that those who are really independent 
and sincere should not often, in free legislative assemblies, vote in sets 
and parties, and it is equally impossible that they should not become 
inflamed by sympathy and collision. Read the works of Soame Jenyns, 
and of Locke. Would not both of these men, for instance, while they 
retained their integrity, have been seen always on the opposite sides 
of any question that could aftect the constitution and government of 
a free country ? 

The real and proper topic for lamentation and reproach is not, ex- 
actly, that men are often violent and systematic in their opposition 
to each other, but that they do not adopt their principles with suffi- 
cient care, and then follow them up with sincerity and honor. Mod- 
erate men, as they call themselves, and men of no party, as they pro- 
fess themselves to be, will generally be found to be men who take 
little concern or are but ill informed on pohtical subjects ; and if they 
are members of the legislature, they are pretty uniformly observed, 
as they are of no party, forsooth, to take care to be of that party 
which is the strongest, — to be of the minister's party, be he who he 
may, and to benefit by their neutraUty. It is possible, indeed, for 
men to be of no party, and to assume the high station of real patriots ; 
and even when they are of a party, to remain patriots, by refusing 
to sanction those measures of the party which they disapprove. This 
is, perhaps, the highest possible ambition of an intelligent and virtu- 
ous man ; but such an eminence can be attained only on one hard 
condition, that of never receiving a favor from those in power. 

I may recur to this subject on some occasion hereafter ; for the 
present, however, I conclude by observing, that the causes of politi- 
cal animosity were, in these times, very peculiarly weighty and ani- 
mating. The questions that often lay between the parties were, in 
reality, what family was to possess the throne ; whether the title of 
the crown was to be founded on divine and hereditary right, or on 
the principles of an original contract, that is, whether on arbitrary or 
free principles ; whether the religion established in the country was 



ANNE. 411 

to be certainly Protestant, or probably Roman Catholic ; in a word, 
■whether principles decidedly favorable, or principles clearly hostile, 
to the civil and religious liberties of the country were to be maintain- 
ed and established. 

But in a sort of connection with this subject, I may mention, that, in 
a mixed government like this, the attention of those who wish well to 
the popular part of it has been always very naturally directed to the 
influence which the executive power can directly exercise on the legis- 
lative bodies, by means of posts, places, and pensions, given to their 
members. Place bills have, therefore, at difierent times been attempt- 
ed ; and efforts of this kind were also made in the reign which we are 
now considering, and with some success. It is to be observed, how- 
ever, that it seems not now to have been any longer proposed, that 
every man should necessarily be shut out of Parliament by holding an 
official situation. The bills were for limiting the number of such mem- 
bers, not excluding them altogether. The number, for instance, was 
to have been fifty ; and to limit the number is a measure of a very 
different complexion from a general bill of exclusion. You will see 
speeches in favor of and against the measure in the debates. Bills 
were brought into the Commons, and rejected by the Lords, one in 
1712, only by a majority of five. 

But instead of following the fortunes of these bills through the 
Houses, I shall prefer calUng your attention to some observations on 
the general subject, which may be found drawn up by Paley in his 
chapter on the British Constitution. Nothing can drop from the pen 
of such a writer, so remarkable for his clearness and excellent sense, 
that can be without its importance, particularly where the subject has 
any immediate connection with the business of human life. Tliis emi- 
nent reasoner, however, feels it necessary to protest against any in- 
fluence but that " which results from the acceptance or expectation 
of public preferments," — nay more, against any influence which re- 
quires " any sacrifice of personal probity." This last seems a large 
concession, — a concession which might, at first sight, be thought to 
leave no further difference of opinion possible. What could the 
most ardent patriot wish for, but that the House should be so consti- 
tuted, that no sacrifice of personal probity should be required ? 

Dr. Paley must, however, be again heard. He contends, that " in 
political, above all other subjects, the arguments, or rather the con- 
jectures, on each side of a question, are often so equally poised, that 
the ^visest judgments may be held in suspense." These he calls 
" subjects of indifference." And again, " When the subject is not 
indifferent in itself, it will appear such to a great part of those to 
whom it is proposed, for want of information, or reflection, or experi- 
ence, or capacity to collect and weigh the reasons " on each side. 
" These cases," he says, and not unreasonably, " compose the prov- 
ince of influence." But then he adds, that " whoever reviews the 



412 LECTURE XXIV. 

operations of government in this country since the Revolution -will 
find few, even of the most questionable measures of administration, 
about which the best instructed judgment might not have doubted 
at the time, but of which he may affirm with certainty, that they 
were indifferent to the greatest part of those who concurred in 
them." 

The whole doctrine of indifference is evidently very suspicious, 
and, if carried into practice, would, I fear, be found but too soothing 
and convenient to that numerous description of men who are neither 
very virtuous nor the contrary, and Avho, though they may be induced 
to act ill, must first practise upon themselves some arts of apology 
and self-delusion. Such doctrine of indifference would surely be de- 
structive of all that plain, straight-forward, simple, and intelUgible in- 
tegrity which should never be parted with, — which is the best orna- 
ment of the character of every man, in public as in private life, — 
the best security for his virtue, and even for his -wisdom. 

But further : ivere in reality the political questions since the Revo- 
lution, in general, such as Dr. Paley supposes, — such, that influence 
might fairly decide them ? and may^ therefore, the same be concluded 
of almost all political questions ? for that is the inference intended, or 
is at least the practical inference. What are the facts ? What says 
the history ? I would recommend this subject to your attention, as I 
would recommend it when you arrive at similar reasonings urged by 
Dr. Somerville. Bear it in mind, while you read the annals of this 
country, from the Revolution to the present moment. 

Not to decide at present on reigns which we have not yet consid- 
ered, can it be true of the reigns before us, — the reigns of William 
and of Anne ? Take, for instance, the latter. Could not men form an 
opinion, and were they not bound to vote according to that opinion, 
on the Occasional Conformity Bill, and on the Schism Bill, — that 
is, on all questions where the toleration of religion was concerned ? 
Again, could they not form an opinion on the question of peace and 
war, at the opening of the reign ? Again, whether the ends of the 
war had not been sufficiently attained, about the middle of the reign? 
Again, at the close of the reign, whether the negotiations which led 
to the peace of Utrecht had been properly conducted ? — whether 
the peace was well made ? — whether it should then have been made 
at all ? — whether the Hanover family should have been called to the 
throne ? — whether the Protestant succession was in danger ? — 
whether the union with Scotland should have been attempted ? — 
whether, when once effected, it should afterwards be broken ? Are 
these, and could they ever have been, questions of indifference ? 
What are the questions, agitated in the Parhaments of Anne, which 
were not connected with the great leading questions of the balance 
of power in Europe, and the success of the principles of the Revolu- 
tion ? How were men of independence and reflection to avoid form- 



ANNE. 413 

ing some opinion, to avoid feeling some strong sentiment, on the one 
side or the other ? 

The truth is, that questions where suspense of judgment is allow- 
able, questions of indifference, such as Dr. Paley, inaccurately, as I 
suspect, dangerously, as I am sure, represents the greatest part of 
political questions to be, excite, when they occur, no sensation, — 
none in the public, none in the House ; are the mere ordinary and 
commonplace business of the kingdom ; what any minister may, and 
Avhat every minister does, carry on, and what no minister finds it 
necessary to carry on by the exertion of influence. It is not by 
votes on cases like these that a minister is obliged by any member, 
and is expected, consequently, to oblige that member in his turn ; it 
is on questions where the great system of his administration at home 
or abroad is concerned, — where the conduct of those he has intrust- 
ed, his officers, civil or mihtary, is to be censured or approved, — 
where public offenders are to be screened, — or where even his own 
wisdom or integrity is to be questioned : it is on occasions like these 
that influence is wanted and is exerted ; these are the cases that, far 
more than the cases of indifference, compose the real province of in- 
fluence. It is impossible to say, that men shall either decide, or 
avoid deciding, on occasions like these, without implicating in their 
vote, or in their absence from the House, the character of their per- 
sonal probity. 

The more natural view of this subject seems to be, that, in a mixed 
and free government like our own, all questions that either occupy or 
deserve to occupy attention have a reference either to the prerogar 
tive of the crown or privileges of the people, to religious toleration, 
to mild or harsh government, to peace and war, or, finally, to some 
of the more important subjects of political economy ; that suspense in 
all these cases is impossible ; that honest men, therefore, vote with 
those who best promote such systems and principles as they approve ; 
that in this manner are disposed of, and ranged on different sides, 
the men of political integrity ; and that the remainder are those who 
are in the habit of thinking all questions matters of indifference, and 
of joining the men or the ministers who are most Ukely to furnish 
their relations or themselves with emoluments and offices ; but that 
such men are, and always have been, the proper objects of the suspi- 
cion and contempt, not only of the public, but of the very House it- 
self, and it is impossible to suppose that they can be necessary to the 
stability of any good government, — certainly not in any greater 
number than the infirmity of human nature will alwaj-s produce them, 
after every possible political expedient and contrivance has been re- 
sorted to, for the purpose of diminishing their number and weakening 
their efficiency. 

I have now another topic to pi'opose in Hke manner to your reflec- 
tions. The reign of Anne is remarkable as exhibiting in a very 

II * 



414 LECTURE XXIV. 

strong point of view one of those peculiarities in the constitution of a 
government which can occur only in a free and mixed form, like our 
own. I allude to the manner in which the executive power can be 
restrained, and even controlled, by machinery not avowedly provided 
by the constitution for the purpose, and yet acting with far more cer- 
tainty and success than any that could be devised by the most skilful 
contriver of political systems. 

For instance. Queen Anne carried on the war against France when 
neither her wishes nor her opinions were favorable to its continuance. 
The Whig administration remained in power long after they had be- 
come disagreeable to her ; and Marlborough was her general, and 
even the arbiter of her councils at the conferences for peace, when 
neither he nor his duchess any longer possessed her favor. Louis the 
Fourteenth, in the mean time, had always understood that it was the 
acknowledged prerogative of the crown in this country to determine 
the questions of peace and war ; that it was equally so to choose its 
own ministers ; and though he must have known that these preroga- 
tives, however acknowledged by the constitution, were, after all, not 
exercised in the manner they were done by himself, still he had 
learned that the Duchess of Marlborough was supplanted, that Har- 
ley and Mrs. Masham were the real favorites, — that the Whigs were 
on the decline, and the Tories preparing for their political triumph ; 
and what difficulties, he must have thought, were left, and what was 
he now to fear? 

All this is made very apparent by a few pages in the Duchess of 
Marlborough's Apology, describing the situation of things so early as 
in the winter of 170G and spring of 1707, about a year after the bat- 
tle of Ramillies, the great battle which seemed to decide the fortunes 
of the war. Yet all through the year of 1708, the war, and the great 
supporters of it, the Whigs, were still highly popular. At the end of 
this year, 1708, November 2-5th, a new Parliament met, in which the 
Whigs had, as before, a decided ascendency, and they were pos- 
sessed of a power that was still firm, and as yet not to be shaken. 
The nation and the houses of Parliament were still in their favor ; and 
though the queen longed for their dismissal almost as impatiently as 
did her secret counsellors and the rival party of the Tories, it re- 
quired a certain lapse of time, and a continuance of mistake and in- 
fatuation on the part of the Whigs, to produce the great political 
events which Louis perhaps expected to take place long before, Avith- 
ovit difficulty or delay. When the Whig administration was at last 
fairly swept away, the queen was felicitated on her success, and even 
in express words congratulated as being again a queen. 

Instances of this sort of control over the Avishes of the sovereign 
sometimes occur in our history, since the restoration of Charles the 
Second, and they deserve attention. While the government remains 
mixed and free, they will never cease at particular periods to occur. 



ANNE. 415 

As on these occasions it is always said that the sovereii^n has as- 
suredly a right to appoint his own ministers, and as this observation 
is generally considered as decisive, a few remarks may not be entire- 
ly without their use to those who would study these, the most critical 
portions of our annals, and certainly by far the most important peculi- 
arities of our constitution. 

To consider them a little. The great problem of government is, to 
make the executive power sufficiently strong to preserve the peace 
and order of society, and yet not leave it sufficiently strong to disre- 
gard the wishes and happiness of the community. When this point 
is attained, every thing is attained that the nature of human society ad- 
mits of. But, referring to our own history, we may say that this was 
not done in our own country before or during the reign of Elizabeth, 
nor yet during the reign of Charles the First. A crisis of the most 
melancholy nature ensued. From this time, however, what had al- 
ways been more or less the doctrine became at last the practice of 
the English constitution, and while the executive power was, in the 
person of the king, considered as incapable of doing any wrong, the 
ministers of that executive power were considered as its advisers, and 
therefore very capable of doing wrong, and as the proper and only 
subjects of national censure or punishment. 

It is not easy to discover a more happy expedient than this for 
solving the great political problem which I have just mentioned ; cer- 
tainly no better has ever appeared in any government that has hither- 
to existed among mankind. The regular growth and final maturity 
of this expedient, if I may so speak, among all the changes and 
chances of the events of our history, may assuredly be esteemed one 
of the greatest blessings by which this country is distinguished ; but 
the original difficulty is so very great, that it is scarcely possible for 
human beings entirely to escape it ; and it is not escaped, but much 
the contrary, if it be once considered as a political maxim, that the 
sovereign can appoint his own ministers, and that no further debate 
is necessary. 

I will now put two cases : one, to show, in the first place, the im- 
propriety of this pohtical maxim, that the king can appoint, and that 
nothing more is to be said ; and another, in the second place, to show 
the impropriety of any maxim directly the contrary, — that the sov- 
ereign, for instance, should always be controlled in this point. Last- 
ly, I will propose a conclusion from the whole. 

And first, to show the impropriety of the maxim, tliat the sovereign 
can choose his o^^^l ministers, and that no further debate is possible. 
Suppose, for instance, that Queen Anne, during the administration 
of the Whigs, had satisfied herself that the war ought to be termi- 
nated, and yet found her ministers of a different opinion ; suppose, 
in this case, she had dismissed them, and appointed others ; suppose 
that the houses of Parliament were unfavorable, agreeing with her 



416 LECTURE XXIV. 

old ministers, and refusing her new ministers their support, — that 
she therefore dissolved the Parliament, and appealed to the people. 
Now, if on this occasion her people had returned her such representa- 
tives as were favorable to the new ministers, merely because the 
queen was vested by the constitution with the prerogative of making 
peace and of choosing her own ministers, what difference would there 
in fact have been between her and Louis the Fourteenth ? None 
but this, — that the sovereign in this country had to go through the 
ceremony of dissolving an existing Parliament and calling a noAv one, 
and that Louis could follow his own opinion without any such delay. 
Or to put a still stronger case to the same purpose : suppose Queen 
Anne had resolved, if possible, to restore her brother and her family 
to the throne ; she had found, we will imagine, her Whig ministers 
impracticable on this occasion ; she had perceived that Bolingbroke 
and others, on the contrary, would try the experiment, if sure of her 
support ; Bolingbroke, therefore, is made minister ; her intentions, 
and those of her new adviser, become manifest ; the houses of Parlia- 
ment, as before, thwart her measures, and the votes necessary for her 
purpose cannot be carried ; she therefore dissolves the Parliament, 
and appeals to the people. Now, if in this case also the electors re- 
turn a House of Commons friendly to the new ministers, merely be- 
cause those new ministers are the objects of the queen's choice, and 
because the constitution has given her the power of choice, — if such 
had been the reasoning considered as final on the occasion, what 
•would have been the result ? That the Protestant succession would 
not have taken place ; that the Stuarts would have been recalled ; the 
Revolution failed ; and more than this, all these events would have 
happened contrary to the real opinion and wishes of the community. 
That is, in other words, this single maxim, if it should really ob- 
tain and be acted upon, would at once make the sovereign ai-bitrary, 
whenever any personal pique with his ministers, any particular views 
of his own in politics, or any great projects with respect to the de- 
scent of his crown, or to the constitution of the country, inspired 
him with a wish to become arbitrary, — that is, to do what he thought 
best. 

We will now change entirely the aspect of the reasoning, to show, 
in the second place, the impropriety of any maxim exactly the con- 
trary to that we have noticed. We will suppose that an appeal, on 
some account or other, had, as before, been made by the sovereign 
from the Parliament to the people, and that the maxim in the mind 
of the electors had no longer been such as we have hitherto supposed, 
but that the reasoning had been of a nature totally different : for in- 
stance, that the legislative bodies, more particularly the House of 
Commons, were the natural protectors of the community ; that the 
sovereign in a free government was not to do whatever he thought 
good ; that the hberties of the country had always owed their exist- 



ANNE. 417 

ence to the control which the Houses had exercised upon the execu- 
tive power ; that a free constitution in reality meant this, and meant 
little else ; and that, therefore, the people should ahvays support their 
ParUaments, who could not be expected to bear up against the execu- 
tive power without the most ready sympathy and protection, without 
the most implicit confidence on the part of their constituents. Now 
it is evident, that, if reasonings like these were supposed to be ahvays 
decisive, and to preclude, as in the first cases, all further discussion, 
then the executive power would be a mere cipher, would be ahvays 
at the mercy of those who, by whatever means, had possessed them- 
selves of the confidence of the Houses. I do not say that even this 
would be a bad species of government, or, at least, that it would not . .^^■ 
be the beat alternative of the two ; but I may safely say that it is not Wvif^^^ 
properly the constitution of England, and that therefore, as before, 
this must not be the maxim, — namely, that the Houses, or perhaps, 
as the case may more probably be, that the House of Commons, is at 
all events to be supported. 

Taking, therefore, the difficulties on each side of the question into 
account, I now proceed, in the third place, to propose a conclusion 
drawn from the whole, and it is this : that, whenever an appeal is 
made by the executive power from the House of Commons to the na- 
tion by a dissolution, the veil of the constitution is for a time drawn 
aside ; the personal conduct, the political wisdom, not only of each 
representative of the public, but even of the high and supreme magis- 
trate of the realm himself, is for one short interval brought before the 
consideration of the pubhc, and is even subjected to their decision. 
The most important question that can possibly be proposed is then, 
in fact, proposed to every individual of intelhgence or influence ; for 
it is this : to which of the two parties (however elevated, in the view 
of reason and the constitution, one of these high parties may be), — 
to which of the two parties he is to give his support. And the re- 
sult of the whole is this : that this support is to be given, not in com- 
pliance with any preestablished maxims either of a monarchical or 
democratical nature, but after the most careful deliberation on the 
merits of the precise case before him ; for it is by these merits he is 
to be decided, and not by any sweeping general preconceptions on 
the one side or the other, such as preclude at once all further discus- 
sion ; he is to be determined, on the contrary, by a deliberation care- 
ful, honest, and independent, — a deliberation which is the very vir- 
tue and the very office that on this occasion are required from Mm ; 
he is to deliberate as having now become for a season the guardian 
and the arbiter of the British constitution, of the happiness of his 
country, of the rights and welfare of the existing generation and pos- 
terity. According to the issue of his inquiries and meditations, he 
is bound to return to Parliament those who would be most likely to 
favor those views of the case which he himself entertains ; and a 
53 



418 LECTURE XXIV. 

greater fault, I had almost said a greater crime, can scarcely be com- 
mitted, than for any man to suffer himself to be swayed on great oc- 
casions like these by any motives of base and detestable self-interest, 
by any hopes of preferment for himself or his relatives, or even by 
regard to his family connections, his personal friendships, his obliga- 
tions of kindness, — or, in short, by any motive, even generous and 
virtuous, but the sole and proper motive which can alone in this par- 
ticular instance be generous and virtuous, his real view of the case, 
the calm, plain, honest, unsophisticated decision of his judgment. 

If ever the constitution of England is to be admired, it is on occa- 
sions like these. In every crisis of this nature, when the supreme 
executive power was in fact to be criticized and publicly controlled, 
at Rome a tribune was to appear on the part of the people with his 
veto, in Aragon a justiza was to be a sort of representative and guar- 
dian of the community. These are but very indifferent expedients ; 
such as have appeared in Grecian or other republican forms of gov- 
ernment are Httle better ; in arbitrary governments there are none. 
But in our own happy country, civil wars, violence and bloodshed, 
those contests so disgraceful to humanity, so fatal but too often to the 
interests of the people, are avoided ; they have now been so for a 
century and a half, and all this by the regular and orderly exercise 
of the different functions that belonf!; to the sovereim, the houses of 
legislature, and the people. In England, if the great magistrate of 
the realm is at issue with other powers in the state, the question is 
for some time kept in suspense ; the pubUc attention is excited, and 
then, before either of the parties is irrecoverably committed or irrecon- 
cilably inflamed, the Parliament is dissolved, a third party is called 
in, and that third party is the nation itself: not acting in any tumul- 
tuous or extraordinary manner ; not exerting any physical force ; not 
called upon to show any giddy rudeness, any vulgar insolence, any 
upstart airs of authority over their sovereign, to whom they owe a 
general obligation of duty and obedience ; and, on the contrary, not 
called upon to show the slightest disrespect or indifference to the of- 
fice of that part of the legislature, their houses of Parliament, to which 
they owe a general sentiment of confidence and affection, but called 
upon gravely and peaceably to furnish a new representative, a new 
special reporter of their opinion to their sovereign, — one with whom he 
may again consult, and to whom again propose his own particular views 
of the nature of his prerogative or of the national interest. If the sov- 
ereign should have lent too wiUing an ear to counsels unfavorable to 
the constitution or the welfare of his people, he may thus be warned 
of his mistake in time, by the opinions of the representatives which 
the people have returned to him, and be warned in a manner the 
most respectful, the most gentle, the most consistent with the high 
reverence that is due to his exalted station ; and if, on the contrary, 
the people themselves mistake or betray their own interests, and send 



ANNE. 419 

an improper representative, they must suffer, and they deserve to 
suffer (as men must always do in every concern and situation of hu- 
man life), the natural consequences of their own servility, inatten 
tion, or ignorance. 

When the sovereigns of this country have neglected the known 
sentiments of the people, or have disregarded the answers that have 
been made by the nation through the medium of their new represent- 
atives, in consequence of appeals of this kind, in each case, deplora- 
ble have been to them the events that followed. Of the Stuarts, 
one lost his life, and one his crown, and even Charles the Second 
precipitated himself and the nation to the very brink of confusion. 
Yet the people of England appear to have been always, notwithstand- 
ing their natural attachment to the House of Commons and their con- 
cern for their own liberties, very indulgent critics to their sovereigns. 
Even Charles the Second, the most worthless of men, obtained an 
answer from them, on an appeal of this kind, at last, quite favorable 
to his wishes. 

There is considerable difficulty, no doubt, on these occasions ; and 
as the physical strength is with the nation, and only opinion and the 
reverence of authority with the sovereign, the balance of the scale is 
not on light grounds to be made to turn against him. 

I will now propose a case to you for your own application of these 
general reasonings. I will take a particular point of time in the 
reign before us. Of the various periods m our history, when a sort 
of crisis of this kind, to a greater or less degree, was understood to 
exist, I know of none in which a decision would have been made with 
more difficulty than during these very times which we are now con- 
sidering. I propose it, therefore, to your reflections, — the epoch of 
1710 ; you will find the case to be shortly this : — The queen had long 
disliked the Whigs and their administration, but they were triumphant 
in the houses of Parliament, and carried on the business of the na- 
tion with great ability and success ; for the first time in the annals of 
the world, England had rendered herself, by her Continental inter- 
ference, the leading power in Europe ; the queen was therefore obliged 
to submit ; she could consult neither the wishes of her secret advisers, 
Harley and INIrs. Masham, and get clear of her ministers, nor her 
own views and opinions, and get rid of the war. The Whigs had, 
however, while they were vindicating the great cause of the nation 
at the trial of Dr. Sacheverell, unfortunately for themselves, excited 
in that nation so violent a ferment, and discovered to the queen so 
plainly the secret of her own strength, that she no longer thought it 
necessary to keep any terms with them ; she dismissed them from 
their offices ; oi'dereda proclamation to be issued for dissolvhig the 
Parliament ; and, when the Chancellor Cowper on this occasion rose 
to speak, declared that she would admit of no debate, "• that such 
was her pleasure." Here, then, was an appeal to the public. 



420 LECTURE XXIV. 

Now the question is, What ought to have been the answer returned 
by the nation ? If a Tory House of Commons was returned, a peace 
would probably be the result, and one of the greatest calamities that 
can afflict mankind at an end. If, on the contrary, a majority of the 
Whigs was to be returned, the war would be continued under the 
auspices of the greatest of commanders, and France probably reduced 
so low as never again to be in a condition to disturb the tranquillity 
of Europe. In the one case, a sanction would be given to the arbi- 
trary principles that had been avowed by Dr. Sacheverell and his ad- 
herents, and even the queen herself would be encouraged and assisted 
to patronize and establish them ; her attachment to her brother, and 
to her own house of Stuart, was well known. What might not be the 
consequence ? But if, on the contrary, the Whigs were protected, 
the principles of the Revolution were protected, the Protestant succes- 
sion was protected ; and the great cause of civil and religious liberty, 
that had been decided, with a good fortune so signal and unexpected, 
a few years before, in favor of the nation, would be rescued from its 
new and most pressing danger, and probably placed on a secure foot- 
ing to the most distant era. In the first case, the queen was to be 
gratified ; a queen neither tyrannical nor austere in her nature ; ex- 
emplary in her conduct ; and though not of an understanding the 
most commanding, on that account the more to be trusted with the 
enjoyment of a political triumph. In the other case, the Whigs 
would be told, and all public men hereafter, that they might safely 
endeavour to promote the glory and interests of the nation, even at the 
risk of thwarting the wishes of their sovereign ; that the public might 
be depended upon ; that their favor, if merited, would be a support 
as eff'ectual as that of the crown ; that a minister's self-interest and 
political virtue were not necessarily at variance with each other. 

Such are some of the considerations on which any lover of his 
country would have had to decide at the time, and on which we may 
also endeavour to decide, now that all the means of forming a judg- 
ment are in our possession. Considering the uncertainty of events, 
the aspect of things at that particular juncture, and the great stake 
at issue (the success of the Revolution), I think the question ex- 
tremely difficult. But the nature of the queen's character, her want 
of pohtical courage, her evident inaptitude to bold and hazardous 
counsels, might, perhaps, with those who also duly considered the de- 
sirableness of a peace, have turned the decision in her favor. The 
decision was so turned ; but it is extremely doubtful, if the queen had 
lived (as Bolingbroke would have been her minister), what might 
have been at length the consequences. 

These allusions will give you some general notion of the political 
questions that occurred during this period of our annals. 

But among the different transactions of a domestic nature that took 
place in the reign of Anne, I would particularly recommend to your 



ANNE. 421 

study the proceedings in the case of Dr. Sacheverell. I recommend 
them, not on account of any interest that can now belong either to 
the Doctor or his sermon, — neither of which is in itself deserving of 
the slightest regard, — but on account of the lively picture that is 
here exhibited of the times, and above all, of the manner in which 
the great Revolution of 1688 was explained and defended by the first 
statesmen of the country about twenty years after the event. And 
it is in this spirit, and for this purpose, that I would wish the student 
to read them, — not as a juror who was to decide whether the Doctor 
was or was not guilty of the charge preferred against him, but as an 
inquirer into the history of our constitution, as one who is to observe 
the political principles exhibited on this occasion by the managers of 
the House of Commons, by Sacheverell's defenders, by the Lords, 
and by the nation. The trial is ever memorable, because at this 
trial the Revolution was avowed to be a case of resistance, — resist- 
ance justified, indeed, by the necessity of the case, but still resist- 
ance. 

At the time of the Revolution, it may be remembered that the 
houses of Parliament, or rather the House of Commons, in their cele- 
brated vote, had rested their justification on somewhat various, and 
indeed on very inconsistent grounds, — " That King James, having 
endeavoured to subvert the constitution by breaking the original con- 
tract, having violated the fundamental laws, and having withdrawn 
himself out of the kingdom, had abdicated the government, and that 
the throne was thereby vacant." That is, in other words, the Whigs, 
for the sake of the Tories, stated the Revolution to be a case of abdi- 
cation, and for the sake of themselves, a breach of the original con- 
tract, that is, a case of resistance. 

But on the present occasion the preamble to the articles exhibited 
against Dr. Sacheverell begins in this remarkable manner : — 
" Whereas his late Majesty, King William the Third, then Prince 
of Orange, did, with an armed force, undertake a glorious enterprise 
for delivering this kingdom from Popery and arbitrary power, and 
divers subjects of this realm, well affected to their country, joined 
with and assisted his late Majesty in the said enterprise, and it hav- 
ing pleased Almighty God to crown the same with success, the late 
happy Revolution did take effect, and was established ; and whereas 
the said glorious enterprise is approved by several acts of Parlia- 
ment," &c., &c. And the first article of the impeachment was, that 
Dr. Sacheverell had maintained, that " to impute resistance to the 
said Revolution is to cast black and odious colors upon Ms late ]Majesty 
and the said Revolution." 

Now the difference in the tone and language of the WTiigs forms 
the remarkable part of these proceedings, and nothing can be more 
curious than to observe how the different parties comported them- 
selves, — the Whigs, the Tories, the Church, and the queen, — on 

J J 



422 LECTURE XXIV. 

this great occasion, in the presence of the nation, and, in reahty, of 
subsequent ages. 

The doctrines of resistance are not doctrines which can find their 
way into the courts of law of any country, or be the language of the 
public ordinances of any regular government. These doctrines, there- 
fore, could not be stated by the Whig managers of the impeachment, 
in the presence of all the constituted dignity and authority of the 
realm, without the strongest qualifications, — without distinguishing 
the case of the Revolution from every other ordinary case, — without 
considering it as a case of the most overpowering necessity, — by 
necessity, and by that alone, to be either explained or justified. 

In our own times, therefore, on the breaking out of the French 
Revolution, when Mr. Burke had to vindicate his own account of this 
Revolution of 1688, his own " representation of the spirit of that 
leading event, and of the true nature and tenure of the government 
formed in consequence of it," he immediately appealed to the speeches 
of the Whig managers on this very occasion ; and it was easy for him to 
show that the Revolution was then justified " only upon the necessity 
of the case, as the only means left for the recovery of that ancient 
constitution formed by the original contract of the British state, as 
well as for the future preservation of the same government." 

Now, though I think allowance must be made for the peculiar 
situation in which the managers in Dr. Sacheverell's trial stood, and 
the necessity they were under to qualify to the utmost their doctrines 
of resistance, still it is suflicient for Mr. Burke, that their doctrines, 
unless so qualified, could not be produced and defended before the 
lawyers and statesmen of the country, — could not be produced as 
doctrines worthy to be recognized by, and to be a part of, the consti- 
tution of England. 

The next question that remains is, What reply was made to the 
Whig managers by the defenders of Sacheverell ? How were the 
doctrines of resistance, thus stated and limited, received ? AVere 
they controverted ? Far from it : when tlms modified, they were at 
once admitted. And therefore, when thus modified, they may be 
considered as the constitutional doctrines of the realm. 

But the interest of the trial does not cease here ; for Dr. Sachev- 
erell, having fortified his own doctrines of passive obedience by the 
authority of the Church of England and the most able divines and 
prelates from the time of the Reformation, a very large field of dis- 
quisition was opened, and the question was very solemnly considered, 
whether passive obedience had or had not been the doctrine of the 
Church of England and of its most able and learned divines. 

The grounds to be taken by the reasoners on the Tory side were 
obvious : quotations were to be produced from the proper authorities, 
to show that the doctrines of passive obedience had been laid down, 
and without any exception ; that such had been the ordinary practice 



ANNE. 423 

of our divines, and that the Doctor only followed their example. 
This Avas done. 

But the Whig prelates and lawyers contended, that rules of duty, 
like those of civil obedience, could be taught only by the Scriptures 
(and therefore by the Church and its divines) in general terms, — 
and that exceptions in extreme cases, like those of the Revolution, 
were necessarily implied from the very nature and common reason of 
the case. 

And what was now the ground taken by the Doctor's counsel ? 
The propriety of this reasoning, and of this view of the case, was ad- 
mitted by the Doctor's counsel. Now, as this solution of the difficulty, 
however reasonable, and however acted upon by the divines of the 
Church of England themselves, had never before been publicly 
stated and admitted, as the proper theorij on the subject, some ad- 
vance must be considered as having been made on this occasion (and 
one favorable to the general principles of civil liberty), and in a 
quarter where of all others it is most desirable to find it. 

There was another very important topic started on this memorable 
occasion. The Doctor was accused of maintaining, that the toleration 
granted by law was unreasonable, and its allowance unwarrantable. 
This led to an assertion of the doctrine of toleration by the Whig 
managers. The defence of the Doctor's counsel, the very able Sir 
Simon Harcourt and others, was such an admission of the principle 
in tlieory, and such a mere quibbling and special pleading with respect 
to the point of fact, that the general doctrine of toleration must be 
considered as having become, on this occasion, like the qualified doc- 
trine of resistance, the regular and constitutional doctrine of the land. 

I have mentioned these particulars from a hope of inducing my 
hearers to believe that this trial will afford them abundant matter for 
amusement and instruction, even though the particular question of 
the Doctor's criminality be or be not considered. The circumstance, 
also, which I have just adverted to, of the reference made by the 
great political moralist of our own times, INIr. Burke, to this very 
trial, in one of his celebrated productions, and that at the distance of 
a century, may serve, I think, to remind you of the importance of 
history and of historical documents, and the necessity there is that 
those who would wish to be statesmen should in the first place be con- 
versant with the occurrences that have taken place in our own 
country, the reasonings to which they have given rise, the principles 
which they seem to have established. 

The speeches, as they are reported in the trial, appear probably 
in a much more concise and condensed form than that in which they 
were delivered, and though they have thus gained something in man- 
liness and strength, they have no doubt lost much in eloquence and 
grace ; yet they are, on the whole, very creditable to the talents of 
the speakers, particularly the reply of Sir Joseph Jekyll. 



424 LECTURE XXIV. 

I must make one observation more, to recommend these remarka- 
ble proceedings to yovir examination. The great characteristic dis- 
tinction of this period of our history is the Revolution, is the interest 
our ancestors took in it, the manner in which it was understood, the 
chances of its success or failure. And the Revolution is still the 
great characteristic feature of our constitution and government. It 
must ever remain so. And when the inhabitants of this country are 
indifferent to the subject, they Avill probably soon arrive at a state of 
permanent political degradation, — sooner or later, at a total loss of 
those honorable English feelings, that love of freedom, and that 
jealousy of power, by which they were before so happily distinguished. 

But to conclude the subject. From this celebrated impeachment 
of Sacheverell two good effects followed : first, that there now exists 
upon record a full assertion of the great principles of civil and relig- 
ious liberty, made in the presence of all the authority, dignity, and 
wisdom of the realm, and, to every practical purpose, an admission 
and acknowledgment ; secondly, that, though the impeachment in this 
important respect answered the purposes of the Whigs, as patriots 
and lovers of the constitution of their country, and as far as posterity 
was concerned, it by no means answered their purposes as leaders of 
a party. The Doctor became the object of the most ridiculous idol- 
atry, and they themselves and their pohtics were precipitated to their 
decline and fall. This impeachment, therefore, became in this 
manner an example, which never has nor can be forgotten, to show 
the risk that is always run, of exalting into importance an author and 
his writings by public prosecutions, — of giving fame and popularity 
to the one, and circulation and influence to the other. 

Now this effect thus produced is a good effect ; for the restraint 
that ministers and attorney-generals are thus laid under, on the mere 
point of prudence and jjolic?/, operates most favorably for the liberty of 
the press. That liberty would be soon destroyed, and entirely at an 
end, if every writing or pamphlet that must necessarily appear a libel 
in a court of law were to be instantly seized upon, and dragged to 
judgment, by those who are bound from their office to defend the 
established order of the community. Such men are always tempted, 
from their situation, however amiable they may individually be, to 
urge the rights and extend the limits of authority too far. It is very 
happy, that, from the experience of this and other similar prosecu- 
tions, the wisdom of leaving publications, if possible, unnoticed has be- 
come a sort of maxim which is seldom departed from, but by petulant, 
narrow-minded men, — men who are mere lawyers, and who, it is to 
be hoped, on such occasions, mean well, for this is the only merit they 
can plead. 

But, in the next place, the scenes that ensued during and after the 
impeachment are mortifying, but instructive lessons, to show the 
nature of what is called a jjopular cry ; more especially when the in- 



ANNE. 425 

terests of religion can be made to form a part of it. The great mass 
of the nation, always right in their sentiments, but not so in their 
opinions, — never, when the slightest patience or precision is neces- 
sary, — "teeant, no doubt, when they were patronizing Dr. Sachever- 
ell, to support the Church and the monarchy, and so indeed they 
everywhere declared, with the most persevering vociferations ; and 
for this purpose they made bonfires and addresses, plundered the res- 
idences and pulled down the meeting-houses of the Dissenters : but, 
instead of supporting all this time the Church and the monarchy, it is 
but too plain that they were only endeavouring, however uninten- 
tionally, to vilify and destroy those sacred principles of civil and 
religious liberty without which the Church would scarcely deserve 
the attribute of Christianity, or the monarchy, of government. 

A few years afterwards. Dr. Fleetwood, the more enlightened and 
civilized Sacheverell of the Whigs, published four sermons, and pre- 
fixed a sort of political dissertation. " I have never failed," said this 
divine, " on proper occasions, to recommend, urge, and insist upon 
the loving, honoring, and the reverencing the prince's person, and 
holding it, according to the laws, inviolable and sacred, and paying 
all obedience and submission to the laws, though never so hard and in- 
convenient to private people ; yet did I never tliink myself at liberty, 
or authorized, to tell the people, that either Christ, St. Peter, or St. 
Paul, or any other holy writer, had, by any doctrine delivered by 
them, subverted the laws and constitutions of the country in which 
they lived, or put them in a worse condition, with respect to their 
civil liberties, than they would have been, had they not been Chris- 
tians." 

Of the different constitutional questions that arose in this reign, the 
next that I shall select, as fit more particularly to engage your atten- 
tion, is that of the Protestant succession. 

On this subject of the Protestant succession, there is a very curious 
essay in Hume. You will see a reference to and some account of it 
in the Note-book on the table. Somerville has given a dissertation 
upon it at the end of his History, which seems reasonable and satis- 
factory. His conclusion is this : " That there was no plan concerted 
or agreed to by the Tory ministers collectively, in the last years of the 
queen, for defeating the Protestant settlement." 

It was, however, most happy for the civil and religious liberties 
of England, that the opinions of the majority of the nation were, on 
the whole, at the time, sound, and particularly on the question of 
Protestantism. No Tory minister could, therefore, depend upon the 
popularity of any measure in favor of the Stuarts ; and could still less 
depend upon the favor and assistance of the queen, who, very fortu- 
nately, (though she loved her brother, and wished the restoration of 
her house,) had no taste for political enterprise, and was most sin- 
cerely attached to the Protestant faith. 

54 jj* 



426 LECTURE XXIV. 

After all, the queen died most opportunely. The cause of the Rev- 
olution was of such importance to England, I had almost said to 
human nature, that it is not possible to survey these very critical 
times without something of anxiety, approaching to a sort of terror ; 
certainly not without being struck with that remarkable good fortune 
which has so often distinguished this country with respect to its civil 
and religious liberties. 

In appreciating the danger to which the Revolution and the Protes- 
tant succession were exposed, we naturally think of the intrigues of 
the exiled family, and of the court of St. Grermain. We turn, there- 
fore, to the second volume of Macpherson's Original Papers ; but 
though they must be looked at, and though they occasionally present 
matter of importance, on the whole they disappoint expectation. 
There is so much that appears difficult to understand, and so much 
that appears not worth understanding, that a reader labors on with 
renewed disappointment and continued weariness.* 

Again, the proceedings that belong to the great case of Ashby and 
White are, I think, another subject which ma}'- deserve your obser- 
vation. They are very well worth reading, particularly the debate 
in the Commons : the case was very ably argued, and the speeches 
are well given. All the proceedings, and, above all, the final repre- 
sentation and address of the Lords to the queen, should be perused. 
The first question was, whether Ashby could bring an action in the 
courts of law against the returning officer, for refusing his vote at an 
election ; the House of Commons contended that all such questions 
were cognizable only by themselves ; — and the second, whether the 
House of Commons could commit to prison, as they had done, those 
persons who violated what they had themselves declared to be the 
privileges of their house. Some of the first lawyers and statesmen 
that our country has produced were actively engaged in these trans- 
actions. The questions were curious and important, and the discus- 
sions that took place lead the thoughts of the reader through such a 
variety of particulars connected with the laws and constitution of our 
country, that I cannot but recommend them to your perusal. The 
dispute between the two Houses grew so violent and irremediable, 
that the queen, after intimating that she agreed (and very properly) 
with the Lords, thought it best to prorogue, and soon after to dis- 
solve, the Parliament. 

Again, the proceedings on the Bill for Preventing Occasional Con- 
formity should be noted. They are connected with the progress of 

* But vrc may now look at the Life of James the Second, lately published ; and the 
Stuart papers, now at Carlton House, would, no doubt, exhibit sufficient light on this 
subject, if any more were necessary. They consist of an immense assemblage of letters, 
which Sir J."Macpherson and others arc, or have been, arranging. With respect to 
this life and these letters, every praise is due to George the Fourth for his activity in 
procuring them, and his disposition to make them known to the public. They very 
amply show (particularly the letters, as I understand) the dangers we escaped. 



ANNE. 427 

our relii^ious liberties, exemplifying completely the different language 
that will be held, the different reasonings that will be adopted, by 
those who are satisfied to leave mankind, as much as they possibly 
can, at liberty and at rest, upon points of religious difference, and 
those who are very improperly desirous to exalt such discussions into 
questions of paramount importance, — refreshing and reviving them 
on all occasions, and keeping the contending sects apart from each 
other, known by their proper badges and colors, and prevented from 
that gradual conciliation and calmness, on former subjects of religious 
animosity, which it is the natural and most salutary effect of time and 
of the business of human life, amid the prosperity and improvement 
of society, insensibly to produce. As such, these proceedings, on 
both occasions, (for the question was twice agitated,) are very in- 
structive. The Lords, and Bishop Burnet, that is, the Whigs, take 
what I presume to call the part of toleration and good sense ; and the 
Commons, and Sir John Packington, that is, the Tories, assert the 
cause, as they supposed, of all true religion and all sound policy. 

In the next Parliament, which Avas a Whig Parliament, and met in 
October, 1705, we find, and cannot be surprised to find, a regular 
and solemn debate in the Lords on the subject of the danger of the 
Church. The debate, and the proclamation that followed against the 
authors and spreaders of any such seditious and scandalous report as 
the danger of the Church, are characteristic of the age, and, in some 
respects, of human nature in every age. There is nothing so valuable, 
and therefore nothing about which men can be so easily alarmed, as 
religion. Fear, from its very nature, is deaf to every argument and 
blind to every fact. There is no situation, therefore, in which good 
men so readily deceive themselves, and designing men so easily de- 
ceive others, as in any case of possible alarm on the subject of relig- 
ion and the safety of a religious establishment. 

This imperfect description of the reign of Anne may serve, I hope, 
to give you some general notion of this period of our historj^ of the 
subjects of reflection you are to meet with, and the books you may 
consult. The whole of the reign, I confess, appears to me interesting 
and important : interesting, because it is connected with our hterature 
and our classical writers. Swift, Addison, and Bolingbroke ; because 
many questions occurred intimately connected with our civil and re- 
ligious liberties ; because it is illustrated with the victories of Marl- 
borough ; because it is animated by the contentions of two great 
parties, whose principles and feelings can still be comprehended by 
ourselves, and are, in many respects, not at all different from our 
own. It is important, because the prevalency of France in the , 
politics of Europe was the question at issue abroad, and the success 
of the Revolution the question in suspense at home ; no greater could 
Avell occur. We see, unhappily, in our own times, what has been the 
result of the ascendency of that military nation ; and if the queen had 



428 LECTURE XXIV. 

found means to restore her family to the throne, and if the Revolu- 
tion had failed, the world had been deprived of one salutary example, 
almost the only one, the example of a great national effort, the Revo- 
lution of 1688, made, and successfully made, in resistance to arbi- 
trary power, in defence of civil and religious liberty, — and been de- 
prived, too, of the no less salutary example of a nation happy and 
prosperous for a whole century, to a degree beyond all precedent in 
the history of mankind ; and this, not on account of any particular 
indulgence of nature to its soil or chmate, but chiefly on account of 
the constitution of its government, — chiefly because, while the ex- 
ecutive power was sufficiently strong, the people were not without 
their due share in the legislature, and neither the monarch nor the 
aristocracy was armed with any powers inconsistent with the honest 
industry and virtuous independence of the lower orders. 

I must observe, while I am concluding, that it will require more 
than ordinary attention to understand the interior politics of this 
reign. The Whig and Tory parties, though at a great distance from 
each other at their extreme points, were almost connected with each 
other by intermediate trimmers and shufflers of every description. 
Men of very discordant principles were often mixed up in the same 
cabinet. The queen was a decided Tory, and was always anxious to 
collect, or retain, as many Tories around her as possible. Marl- 
borough and Godolphin were originally Tories, but were obliged 
gradually to depend more and more on the Whigs, from the nature 
of the contest in which they were engaged. Harley and Bolingbroke 
were at first the friends of Marlborough, and employed by him. On 
one account or another, it is impossible for you to understand the 
reign, unless you, in the first place, note down the different Tory and 
Whig Parliaments, the different struggles between the queen and her 
ministers, and compare them with the measures of government at 
home, and the negotiations for peace and the military movements 
abroad. You will not do this so readily as you may suppose, and till 
it is done, a great air of confusion will hang over the whole scene. 

Since I wrote this lecture, the Life of the Duke of Marlborough 
has been published by Mr. Coxe, and what I have just recommended 
as a necessary labor of some toil and difficulty is become comparatively 
easy and agreeable. The movements of the Whig leaders are not 
yet, as I conceive, properly explained ; they will probably be made 
more intelligible by the expected History of Sir James Mackintosh ; 
but in the mean time, and indeed at all times, it will be impossible to 
appreciate the politics of the reign of Anne, without the study of this 
very welcome, entertaining, and valuable work of Mr. Coxe. 



UNION OF ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND. 429 



LECTURE XXV. 

ANNE.— UNION OF ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND. 

The great domestic event by which the reign of Anne was distin- 
guished was the union of the two kingdoms of England and Scotland. 
I am very desirous to recommend this subject to your diligence and 
reflection. I will make a few observations, and endeavour to convey 
to you some general idea of the interest which belongs to it. 

England has been connected with Scotland, with Ireland, with 
America. In each of these relations a sort of termination and crisis 
has at last taken place. In Scotland we adopted the measure of a 
union under the immediate apprehension of a rebellion ; in Ireland, 
after a rebellion which had but too nearly torn the two countries 
asunder ; in America the rebellion was successful, and we lost the 
country for ever. We have still another country with which we are 
connected on the other side of the globe, the immense continent of 
India. 

The political questions that arise from the connection of nations 
with each other seem to me among the greatest that history or that 
human affairs can ever present to you. Such connections of different 
nations have often occurred, and will never cease to occur, in the an- 
nals of mankind. Spain has been connected with Portugal ; both 
kingdoms with South America ; Fi-ance with America and the West 
Indies ; the house of Austria with the Netherlands and Italy. By 
proximity of situation, or by colonization, kingdoms have been, and 
always will be, \dtally dependent on the conduct of each other. The 
duties that hence arise are often very difficult, the best systems of 
policy not obvious. Happy would it have been and would it still be 
for mankind, if something more of good sense and good feeling either 
had been or could yet be introduced into the cabinets of their rulers, 
and into their own misguided understandings and selfish minds ! 

It is very true, that, when philosophy has exhibited all its reason- 
ings and exhausted all its efforts, it is very true, that the most serious 
ditficulties will still remain on subjects hke these, — that the interests 
of connected nations cannot be entirely reconciled, nor their separate 
wishes be gratified. Nations must often be reduced to compound 
with evils, and at last to make such sacrifices as are necessarily ac- 
companied with mortification and regret ; but it is for political wisdom 
to encounter and reconcile men to these evils, to proclaim aloud, that 
on these occasions nothing has happened at variance with the common 
necessities of our imperfect state. 

The misfortune is, that nations can never submit to the circum- 



430 LECTURE XXV. 

stances of their situation in time, or with any grace or good humor. 
Human life, however, at every turn, and in every stage of it, is con- 
tinually requiring from us a wisdom of this melancholy cast. It is 
the great discipline to which the Almighty Ruler of the world has 
subjected us, through all the successive changes of our state, and all 
the affecting relations of our domestic feelings, from infancy to the 
grave. On all such occasions, on the small scale of our social con- 
nections, and in what relates to ourselves, we submit to necessity ; 
we compound, we balance, we understand what is our best wisdom, 
and we endeavour to practise it ; the father expects not that his son 
shall for ever remain dependent on his kindness and moulded by his 
directions ; men with their inferiors, neighbours with each other, act 
always on a system of mutual sacrifices, reciprocal duties, and inter- 
changed offices of sympathy and good-will. 

But on the larger scale of the intercourse of nations, particularly 
of connected nations, the same moral truths, though equally existing, 
are not so obvious, and, when apparent, not so impressive. We are, 
therefore, fretful, ill-humored, outrageous ; we contend against rea- 
son, philosophy, and nature itself; forget the great rule of doing to 
others as wo would they should do unto us ; and after wasting our 
blood and treasure to no purpose, we at last sit down faint and ex- 
hausted, abandon our vain projects only because it is impossible to 
pursue them, and then leave it to the reasoners of a succeeding 
age to show how egregious has been our folly, and how blind our 

fury 

The leading principles that belong to subjects of this nature have 

been introduced to the notice and to the assent of the more intelligent 

part of mankind in two different modes, — by experience, and by the 

reasonings of philosophers. 

When nations are connected with each other, they can find causes 
of offence and hostility in three different points, — in their religion, 
their laws and customs, their trade and manufactures. 

Now experience has tolerably well taught mankind, however slowly, 
that, with respect to the two former, toleration is the best and only 
policy ; that it is best to suffer colonies or inferior nations to retain 
their own particular creeds and rites and ceremonies in religion, and 
their own particular modes of administering justice in civil or crimi- 
nal matters ; that improvements may be proposed to them, but not 
enforced ; that, till they can be properly enhghtened, they must be 
left to indulge their own particular notions. 

But on the last question, of trade and manufactures, the world is 
indebted entirely to the labors of the French writers on political 
economy, and to the works of Hume and Adam Smith. It is from 
these last two distinguished masters of political science, that this coun- 
try, more particularly, has acquired any enlarged views which it pos- 
sesses on such extensive and difficult subjects ; and an acquaintance 



UNION OF ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND. 431 

with their doctrines is indispensably necessary, before we can ap- 
]n*oach any such questions as the union of kingdoms or the manafi^e- 
ment of colonies. 

To illustrate this part of my subject : a reader of history will see 
all the statesmen of Europe, from the first period of the existence of 
statesmen, proceed upon the supposition that nations could be enriched 
only by what is called the balance of trade ; that is, if England has 
sent to Portugal a greater value of manufactures than she received of 
wine, that Portugal must pay the difference in bullion, and that this 
bullion was the measure of the advantage which England derived 
from this trade. Mr. Hume has an essay on the Balance of Trade, 
and another on the Jealousy of Trade ; and after successfully combat- 
ing the natural reasonings of mankind on these subjects, he concludes 
thus : — "I shall, therefore, venture to acknowledge, that, not only 
as a man, but as a British subject, I pray for the flourishing commerce 
of Germany, Spain, Italy, and even France itself. I am at least cer- 
tain that Great Britain and all those nations would flourish more, did 
their sovereigns and ministers adopt such enlarged and benevolent 
sentiments towards each other." 

Now it is to be observed, that no reasoner would at this time of 
day think it necessary to say that he would " venture to acknowledge " 
the labors of Hume and Smith have been so far successful ; and he 
would not " venture to acknowledge," but he would aflirm without 
hesitation. It is now admitted that the whole doctrine of the balance 
of trade is a mistake, and that nations are necessarily benefited by 
any commercial intercourse, of whatever kind, provided it is not arti- 
ficially produced by the mere operation of laws or any species of ex- 
traneous necessity and force. 

We have now, then, an adjustment of the whole of the case. 
What difficulty, it might be said, can remain ? If nations are to be 
connected together, let the one allow to the other its o^v'n religion, its 
own laws, and the most free and unrestrained imports and exports ; 
what cause of contention can remain ? Let the supreme legislature 
be the same ; and the countries being thus in every respect identified, 
the interests of both will be entirely served and secured, and every 
thing that philosophy can prescribe, or human afiairs admit of, be at 
once accomplished. 

But the conduct and even the reasonings of mankind have on all 
such occasions been widely difierent, and the result has been at all 
times fatal to their happiness. 

We will take the simplest case, that of a mother country and her 
colonies. The religion has been here generally the same, and laws 
and customs similar ; in these points there was little room for mis- 
takes. But in questions of trade and commerce greater oppor- 
tunity for errors was aSbrded, and the mistakes committed have 
in fact been very numerous and important. The most narrow jeal- 



432 LECTURE XXV. 

ousj, tlie most blighting systems of superintendence and control, have 
been continually exercised ; no market allowed to the colonies till the 
supposed interests of the mother country were first secured ; no manu- 
factures to be imported, or even to be used, but those that came from 
the land and labor of the parent state ; and if ill-humor in the colonies 
•was the consequence, troops were to be sent, and a policy, ultimately 
injurious to both countries, was to be supported by force. 

In other cases that have occurred, cases of connected nations, as 
the real difficulties have been greater, the mistakes have been still 
more multipUed and fatal. For instance, two nations may be com- 
pletely connected together by proximity of situation, and yet be, by 
fortune, placed under diSerent governments, — England and Scot- 
land, for instance ; each kingdom possessing an independent sov- 
ereignty, and therefore each strongly affected by all those associa- 
tions of national dignity and ancient renown which are so immediate- 
ly derived from the noblest and best feelings of our nature. This is 
the most difficult case of all. Nations thus situated are of all othera 
the most unfortunately situated, particularly the inferior nation ; and 
what a reasoner would even now, at the present day, propose would, 
in a case like this, be accompanied with the most intolerable diffi 
culties, — difficulties such as the worst passions and the best pas- 
sions of our nature would equally conspire to render almost insur- 
mountable. 

In the first place, nations so situated will be in a state of eternal 
hostility with each other, — not only of hostility, but of petty warfare ; 
and not only will they have their own quarrels to adjust, but the in- 
ferior state will attach itself to some third state for the benefit of its 
assistance, and thus become the tool of the one and the victim of the 
other. 

For evils like these the first remedy that might be attempted 
would be a federal union ; that is, each country to retain its own 
legislature, but both to have the same king or executive power. 
This sort of federal union took place by the union of the two crowns 
of England and Scotland under our James the First. The same 
was in later years understood to be the situation of England and 
Ireland, but admitted by our government only at a very late period. 

Now this alteration, this federal union, will be on the whole bene- 
ficial, but not a remedy. In the first place, the two legislatures may 
disagree, and it will always be, therefore, the labor of the superior or 
more powerful country to influence by bribes the legislature of the 
inferior, to render all such disagreement impossible ; and this Avill be 
the source of eternal indignation to all the intelligent and independ- 
ent men of the state that is thus corrupted and ruled. Again, the 
inferior country (meaning by superior and inferior the more or less 
powerful) Avill appear to itself of less consequence than it was before. 
It will see its nobles and its aristocracy move away to the seat of 



UNION OF ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND. 433 

government, its rents follow them ; its agriculture and manufactures 
vnW seem deprived of their natural encouragement and protection ; 
dissatisfaction, jealousy, hatred, Avill be deeply felt ; and as the in- 
ferior country will always compare itself with its more fortunate 
neighbour, such unhappy effects can never cease. In the mean time 
the superior country will exercise no arts of conciliation, and adopt no 
measures of general policy. It will draw a fence around its own 
trade and manufactures ; admit the inferior state to no markets, no 
colonies, no sources of affluence, wliich are within its o\n\ influence ; 
neglect the laws of the inferior state, corrupt its statesmen, perhaps 
interfere with its religion, and, in short, exhibit an abuse of power in 
every possible mode and direction. 

Of this situation of things the natural crisis is either a sort of civil 
war and a total rupture, or the application of a new remedy, the 
measure of an incorporating union. This last would have been 
always the best expedient, but it would not have appeared so to 
those concerned. The superior state would have conceived that it 
was thus called upon to give away its affluence, and injure the sources 
of its own prosperity ; the inferior, that it was to lose its sovereignty, 
independence, and dignity, — see its nobles and aristocracy resort to 
the capital, — and feel most of the evils Avhich have been already 
mentioned, as inseparable from a federal union, without any ade(|uate 
return. A century would probably elapse before time had produced 
its happy effects on both kingdoms, and, depriving the one of its inso- 
lence, and the other of its unreasonableness, put each into possession 
of all the benefits which nature, from their different soil and chmate, 
evidently intended for both. 

Of principles like these, and of situations like these, we see a full 
exempUfication, as I have already intimated, in the relative history 
of Scotland and England. Nothing can be more afflicting than the 
evils of the first situation, that of entire independence of each other. 
Tyranny, injustice, lawless ambition in the superior state, as in the 
instance of our Edward the First, on a large scale ; on a smaller, 
devastations, cruelties, unceasing alarm, malignity, and revenge, as 
in the instances of the border laws and the border wars. Nothing 
can be more dreadful than both these consequences, particularly the 
latter, the border wars. Never, sure, was the art by which poetry is 
disting-uished, the art of withdrawing the repulsive and presenting the 
attractive parts of a picture, displayed in a manner so striking as in 
reconcihng to our imagination, as the great minstrel of the North 
has done, the maraudei's and moss-troopers, the inroads and outrages 
of these unhappy times. 

These e\dls of eternal warfare and ferocious depredation couM not 
but be deplored, even by our fierce ancestors, at the time ; and 
through the whole history of England and Scotland there seems to 
have been a series of negotiations, with an intent, if possible, to ter- 

55 KK 



434 LECTURE XXV. 

minate such calamities by a union of the two crowns. The marriage 
of the two royal families was frequently proposed ; sometimes the 
union of the two kingdoms. But, after all, the union of the crowns 
took place not till the reign of our James the First, a late period ; 
and the union of the kingdoms not till the reign of Queen Anne. It 
was then accomplished only by force and fraud ; so incurable are the 
bad passions, so impracticable are sometimes the good passions, of our 
nature ; so perverse are the selfish interests and temporary reasonings 
of mankind. 

Having proposed these general principles to your consideration, I 
must now endeavour to draw your attention to the more particular 
circumstances that attended the Union. 

There was a book published by De Foe ; it has been lately repub- 
lished, and a life of the author prefixed. The name of De Foe is 
already familiar and even dear to us, though not on account of his 
book on the Union, but of a work that to the writer himself might, 
perhaps, have appeared at the time of far less splendor and impor- 
tance, the romance of Robinson Crusoe. We turn, therefore, in the 
first place, to the Life of De Foe, prefixed to his work, with no little 
impatience and curiosity ; not, indeed, thinking of the Union so much 
as of our early acquaintances, the shipwrecked mariner and his man 
Friday. But we must be content to hear of the politics and pamphlets 
in which De Foe was engaged, and to learn nothing of what is far more 
interesting to us, nothing of the original materials and composition of 
that attractive production which has given to its author immortality, 
and to the hours of our childhood those sensations of eager interest 
and innocent delight which may even now be remembered with envy 
and regret. In the book of De Foe, the life given of him should, 
however, be read ; and there is a preface, which should also be looked 
over. There is a general history, too, of the unions that were at dif- 
ferent times attempted prior to the reign of Anne ; and this part of 
the work is very illustrative of the remarks that have been made. 

The point more particularly to be adverted to is the vmion that was 
attempted, in 1604, by our James the First ; a monarch whom, it 
must be confessed, we are not much in the habit of respecting, but 
who, on this occasion, almost realized his own amusing pretensions, 
and displayed a decisive superiority over his Parliament and his 
people in the mysteries of his state-craft, as he called it, or in a 
knowledge of their best political interests and ultimate happiness. 

But this part of the subject (and for the general purposes of in- 
struction it is an important one) is executed in far the most complete 
manner by Mr. Bruce, who, when the question of a union with 
Ireland came under the consideration of his Majesty's ministers, was 
employed by the late Duke of Portland to make a report on the 
union of England and Scotland. In this work, which is worth read- 
ing, there is not only a review of the leading facts in the histories of 



UNION OF ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND. 435 

the two countries ■whicli led to the union of the two crowns, but a re- 
view of the union that was really proposed by James the First, with 
the reasonings in England and Scotland on the subject, and the causes 
of the failure of the measure. We have a speech of the great Bacon 
on the subject, and another by James, which are in the second 
volume, — the volume containing those documents on which the first 
is founded. 

I must also refer you back to the debates which are given in the 
first volume of Cobbett. You have here not only Bacon's speech, 
but an account of the objections insisted upon by some of the mem- 
bers of the Commons ; and there are here given three speeches by 
the king, — one to introduce the union, another to hasten it, a third 
to explain the former, — all of which are perfectly worth reading, 
and will appear (to those who make due allowances) highly credit- 
able, not only to the disposition of the king, but to his powers of 
mind. The speeches alluded to, particularly Lord Bacon's, are de- 
serving of attention, not only on account of their subject, but as 
illustrative of the state of the human mind and of the reasonings of 
the orators and statesmen of this period, — their distinctness, gravity, 
and classical learning, — their heavy manner, strange and pedantic 
perplexities, and weighty matter. 

But the nations concerned in these discussions were at a wide dis- 
tance; the English, more particularly, were jealous, illiberal, and 
unreasonable, and it is to them, rather than to the Scotch, that the 
failure of the project is to be imputed. 

Cromwell and his officers, more accustomed to dispose of difficulties, 
soon despatched the business of a union by a few w^ords in an ordi- 
nance, giving thirty members to Scotland, as its part of the general 
representation, enacting a free intercourse of goods, and abolishing 
all vassalage and superiorities. This ordinance, short and expeditious 
as it may be, is very creditable to its authors, for the important points 
are seized upon, and the last regulation respecting vassalage and su- 
periorities might have been copied with great advantage in the time of 
Anne, while, on the contrary, these national evils were confirmed. 

But this sort of union of the two kingdoms was, of course, dissolved 
when the d\niasty of Cromwell was swept away. A very laudable 
attempt was made in the time of Charles the Second, but the circum- 
stances of the times were very unfavorable, and neither the English 
were sufficiently disposed to share their trade, nor the Scots to oblit- 
erate a part of their Parliament. The measure was repeatedly rec- 
ommended to the Houses by Charles, and commissioners were 
appointed, conferences held, proposals interchanged and discussed, 
but nothing effisctual could be accomplished. 

"William was well disposed, both from the elevation of his tempera- 
ment and the sagacity of his understanding, to make every effort to 
heal the divisions and consolidate the strength of the island. De Foe 



436 LECTURE XXV. 

relates, that liis Majesty told him, " he had done all he could in that 
affair, but that he did not see a temper in either nation that looked 
like it"; and then added, after some discourse, " that it might be 
done, but not yet." 

Wilham was continually engrossed by the political situation of 
Europe, which required his time and presence, not only in the 
cabinet, but the field ; and when any abatement is to be made from 
the character of this illustrious prince, it is in the government of 
Scotland that the exceptionable part of his conduct is to be found. 
William was guilty, on some account or other, of the common fault of 
those who have to manage a connected country, — the fault of con- 
fiding in statesmen who know, as it is thought, the nature of the 
country, and how to transact its business, but who know not a far 
more important mystery, — the art and the value of mild government. 
William himself was, unfortunately, too much occupied to teach it to 
them, or rather to find ministers of another school. The result was, 
that the differences between the two countries, under his reign, were 
rather increased than diminished. 

There is a chapter in De Foe descriptive of the state of public af- 
fairs in both kingdoms, and explanatory of the circumstances that at 
length made a union not only desirable, but necessary ; it is not long, 
and should be read. In Mr. Bruce's work there is an account of 
the revival of the plan of union during the reign of William, and 
again in the first years of Anne, with the events and circumstances 
that prevented its adoption for some time ; this part of the work is 
very deserving of attention. But neither of these works will give 
the reader a sufficient idea of the crisis that had at length taken 
place. This crisis had been occasioned partly by harsh, bad govern- 
ment on the part of England, and partly by the difficulties and evils 
which were inseparable from the very situation of the two countries. 
As this is one of the most instructive parts of the whole subject, I 
must call your attention to it very particularly. 

A good general idea may be formed of this crisis from the History 
of Belsham, but Laing must also be looked at, so also must the ap- 
pendix to Cobbett's Debates ; for Fletcher of Saltoun is a most im- 
portant character at this particular period, and his speeches and 
motions in the Scotch Parliament may be seen in this appendix to 
Cobbett more readily than in his works, or in the authorities from 
which the appendix is taken, books that may not always be met with. 

I have hitherto forborne to mention the History of Somerville only 
that I might at last mention it as a regular and full statement of the 
whole subject, which must be read, and that more than once, as quite 
necessary to the full comprehension of it. 

The books I have mentioned, De Foe, Bruce, Belsham, Laing, the 
appendix to Cobbett, and Somerville, will be sufficient, taken to- 
gether, but none of them singly ; each writer, as is often the case, 



UNION OF ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND. 437 

doing more justice to some parts of the subject than is done bj his 

fellow-laborers, and no part of the subject being ^^'ithout its curiosity 
and instruction. 

The crisis I have just alluded to was this ; you must observe it : — 
The crown of England, on the demise of Anne, was to be transferred 
from the Stuart to the Protestant line ; but as Scotland Avas not ex- 
actly obliged to adopt the views of England, and was competent to 
dispose of her own crown in whatever manner she thought best, the 
present was the moment, in the apprehensions of Fletcher and the 
Scotch patriots, for some decisive effort to be made in flivor of their 
country, — the moment when an opportunity was offered to assert 
their rights, and either to be independent, and have a king of their 
own, or to make such provisions for its commercial interests, and such 
alterations in its constitution, that, even if the king were the same, 
its counsels should no longer be guided by the Enghsh ministry, and 
Scotland be no longer neglected, as they thought, insulted, and sac- 
rificed on every occasion to her more powerful neighbour. 

It is the struggles of men acting mth views like these, and in times 
like these, that form the most interesting and instructive portion of 
tliis subject of the Union. These, however, are not to be found in 
De Foe, nor in the work of Mr. Bruce, nor sufficiently m Belsham, 
nor even in Laing ; but they may be seen in the appendix to Cobbett's 
Debates, where the speeches and motions of Fletcher of Saltoun 
may be easily found. 

It is (pute necessary that you should form some notion of Fletcher 
of Saltoun, the complexion of his mind, the nature of his views, the 
description of his eloquence. Men like Fletcher of Saltoun, the same 
in kind, though different in degree, are always existing in society ; 
they are always to be found armed with more or less abiUty and in- 
fluence in ever}'- inferior country ; criticizing the conduct of the 
superior country ; explaining, discussing, and aggravating its op- 
pressions ; brooding over the wrongs and insults of their native land, 
and warmed and exasperated to madness by a comparison of the ad- 
vantages and disadvantages of the two kingdoms, — the wretchedness 
and poverty of the country they love, and the affluence and happiness 
of the country they hate ; ready, therefore, to propose or adopt any 
system of policy or line of conduct, if it seem, however slightly, to re- 
move from their eyes that odious dependency which they consider as 
the obvious cause of all the evils they deplore. Men of this character 
should be studied by statesmen ; but statesmen and men in authority 
are very apt entirely to neglect and even despise them and their 
efforts, and very often to confound them with others, darmg and bad 
men, who have all their faults, but who have not their virtues, — 
others with whom they are frequently associated, and into whose 
company and even friendship they are but too easily hurried by their 
own enthusiasm, and stUl more often driven by the violent measures 

K K* 



438 LECTURE XXV. 

and insulting menaces of the rulers of the superior country. The 
nature of every thing human is so mixed and blended, the good with 
the evil, that we are not to be surprised, if we should find, that it is 
to men of this description, to men of these ardent and irregular minds, 
that society has been indebted, imperfect as are their characters, 
and doubtful and dangerous and calamitous as are very often their 
projects, for many of its favorable changes. There is a certain im- 
practicableness in their temperaments, and superficial dogmatism in 
their understandings, with a certain fearlessness as well as generosity 
in their dispositions, by which they may be known ; but, with all their 
faults, they would not be, perhaps, ill described by the expressions of 
the poet, while giving, not only a character, but, as he conceived, a 
most honorable character, of the English nation : — 

" Stem o'er each bosom Eeason holds her state, 
With daring: aims in-egularly great ; 
Pride in tlieir port, defiance in their eve, 
• I see the lords of human kind pass by, 

Intent on hitrh designs, a thoughtful band, 
By forms unfashioned, fresh from Nature's hand, 
Fierce in their native hardiness of soul, 
True to imagined right, above control." 

Such was the celebrated Fletcher of Saltoun. And as his country 
was the inferior country, as England had conducted herself with the 
usual harshness, ignorance, and ilHberality of the superior country, 
and as the times in which he lived happened to be of a critical nature, 
his. powers were called forth, his heart was animated, and his genius 
was kindled. He became the hope, the pride, and the director of a 
small, but popular party ; and regarding neither England nor France, 
nor the Protestant succession nor the succession of the house of 
Stuart, but in relation to the interests of Scotland, it was to that Scot- 
land, his poor, oppressed, imfortunate native country to its prosperity, 
happiness, and glory, that he dedicated every passion of his soul and 
every faculty of his being. 

Among the patriots must be mentioned Lord Belhaven, whose 
speeches contain much more of what is properly denominated elo- 
quence than those of Fletcher, and who would, in the eyes of pos- 
terity, have echpsed even Fletcher himself, if liis patriotism had been 
as pure and unsuspected. This was, hoAvever, not the case. He 
was understood at the time to have been piqued by the court of Eng- 
land, and was believed to have held correspondence with the exiled 
family of the Stuarts. 

Fletcher and the patriots had no sooner perceived that the court 
of England had an object which must at all events be accomphshed, 
— the proper adjustment of the succession to the crown, that the 
king of the two countries might be the same, — than they instantly 
set about forming pro^-isions for the interests of Scotland, and they 
proposed what they called an Act of Security. From the clauses, 



UNION OF ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND, 439 

Nos. 1, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 12, (I will read them immediately,) which 
you will find in Cobbett's appendix, vol. vi., it will be readily seen 
that this intended act was of no ordinary nature. It is sufficiently 
descriptive of the crisis I have spoken of. It was meant, and 
it was, indeed, avowed by Fletcher in his speeches to be meant, to 
effect the following consequences (see col. xxviii., Appendix to 
Cobbett): — " They are not limitations," said Fletcher, " upon any 
prince who shall only be king of Scotland, nor do any way tend to 
separate us from England ; but calculated merely to this end, that, so 
long as we continue to be under the same prince with our neighbour 
nation, we may be free from the influence of English Councils and 
ministers ; that the nation may not be impoverished by an expensive 
attendance at court ; and that the force and exercise of our govern- 
ment maybe, as far as is possible, within ourselves : by which means, 
trade, manufactures, and husbandry will flourish, and the aflFairs of the 
nation be no longer neglected, as they have been hitherto. These are 
the ends to which all the Umitations are directed, that English Councils 
may not hinder the acts of our Parliaments from receiving the royal 
assent ; that we may not be engaged without our consent in the 
quarrels they may have with other nations ; that they may not ob- 
struct the meeting of our Parliaments, nor interrupt their sitting ; that 
we may not stand in need of posting to London for places and pen- 
sions, by which, whatever particular men may get, the nation must 
always be a loser, nor apply for the remedies of our grievances to a 
court where, for the most part, none are to be had. On the contrary, 
if these conditions of government be enacted, our constitution will be 
amended, and our grievances be easily redressed by a due execution 
of our own laws, which to this day Ave have never been able to 
obtain." 

The clauses that I have mentioned, Nos. 1, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 12, ran 
thus, after a prefatory enactment with respect to the Parliament, a 
convention of estates for the purpose of securing the execution of the 
clauses. 

The first was this : — "1. That elections shall be made at every 
Michaelmas head court for a new Parliament every year ; to sit the 
first of November next following, and adjourn themselves from time 
to time, till next Michaelmas ; that they choose their own president ; 
and that every thing shall be determined by balloting, in place of 
voting." 

The fifth was, — " 5. That a committee of one-and-thirty mem- 
bers, of which nine to be a quorum, chosen out of their own number 
by every Parliament, shall, during the intervals of Parliament, under 
the king, have the administration of the government, be his Council, 
and accountable to the next Parliament ; with power, in extraordinary- 
occasions, to call the Parliament together ; and that in the said Council 
all things be determined by balloting, in place of voting." 



440 LECTURE XXV. 

" 6. That the king, without consent of Parliament, shall not have 
the power of making peace and war, or that of concluding any treaty 
with any other state or potentate." 

" 7. That all places and offices, both civil and military, and all 
pensions formerly conferred by our kings, shall ever after be given 
by Parliament." 

"8. That no regiment or company of horse, foot, or dragoons be 
kept on foot in peace or war, but by consent of Parliament." 

"9. That all the fencible men of the nation, betwixt sixty and six- 
teen, be, with all diligence possible, armed with bayonets, and fire- 
locks all of a calibre, and continue always provided in such arms, 
with ammunition suitable." 

" 12. That, if any king break in upon any of these conditions of 
government, he shall, by the estates, be declared to have forfeited the 
crown." 

It is true that the act thus proposed by Fletcher never passed the 
Scotch Parliament exactly in these terms. But it is, notwithstand- 
ing, a very sufficient exemplification of the species of reasoning that 
was then prevalent, and of the temper of the times. The same may 
be said of different limitations proposed by the same patriot, which 
were overruled by only eleven voices. 

But it is now necessary for me to add, that an Act of Security was 
really carried by Fletcher and the patriots, in the more important 
particulars not different ; it was carried by the assistance of the 
Jacobites and other opponents to government. This act, though 
short, has with great stupidity been omitted by De Foe, because, 
says he, it may be found in the Scotch statute-book ; nor is it, as it 
ought to be, in Cobbett's appendix, — at least, not given in its ex- 
press words, and as it was left at last to stand. The substance of 
it is given by Laing. The act itself may be found in one of the pam- 
phlets of the day, entitled "An Account of the Proceedings of the 
Parliament of Scotland," in the Trinity Library. The clauses were 
debated, each as if it had been a separate act, and some of them may 
be seen in this detached state in Cobbett. Indeed, the greatest part 
of the book I have just mentioned, in the Trinity Library, is copied 
out into the appendix of Cobbett ; and though the Act of Security, 
which was at last voted by fifty-nine voices, is not there given in ex- 
press words, as it should have been, still the student may see in 
Cobbett the clauses that were proposed and debated, one by one, and 
will be tolerably well apprised (though not so readily or easily as he 
might have been) of the particular provisions and meaning of the act. 

You will easily see that it is such an act as could not be agreeable 
to the government or people of England ; such an act as made the 
connection between the two countries frail and slight ; such an act as 
tended to rob the superior country of most of the advantages that 
were supposed to result from the connection between them. 



UNION OF ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND. 441 

After first mentioning, that, on the death of the sovereign, the 
sitting ParUament, or the last Parliament, were to assemble and offer 
the crowi on the conditions of the Claim of Right, a claim analogous 
to our Bill of Rights, the act goes on to say, that the monarch is not 
to be the " successor to the crown of England, unless that in this 
present session of Parliament, and any other session of this or any 
ensuing Parliament during her Majesty's reign, there be such con- 
ditions of government settled and enacted as may secure the honor 
and sovereignty of this crown and kingdom, the freedom, frequency, 
and power of Parliaments, the religion, liberty, and trade of the 
nation, from English or any foreign influence, with power to the said 
meeting of estates to add such further conditions of government as 
they shall think necessary, the same being consistent with and no 
ways derogatory from those which shall be enacted in this and any 
other session of Parliament during her Majesty's reign ; * and further, 
but prejudice of the generality foresaid, it is hereby specially 
statute, enacted, and declared, that it shall not be in the power of 
the said meeting of estates to name the successor of the crown of 
England to be successor to the imperial crown of this realm, nor shall 
the same person be capable, in any event, to be king or queen of both 
realms," — that is, Scotland was to have a new king, not the English 
king, — "unless a free communication of trade, the freedom of navi- 
gation, and the liberty of the plantations be fully agreed to and es- 
tablished, by the Parhament and kingdom of England, to the kingdom 
and subjects of Scotland," &c. 

And again, for the purpose of destroying all English influence 
during the interregnum, it was ordained that all commissions 
granted to the officers of state, lords of treasury, &c., should, by 
the decease of the king or queen reigning, become null and void. It 
was enacted also, " that the whole Protestant heritors, and all the 
burghs, shall forthwith provide themselves with firearms for all the 
fencible men," &c. ; " and the said heritors and burghs are hereby 
empowered and ordained to discipline and exercise their said fencible 
men," &c., &c. 

After this formidable act, another was passed to declare that the 
prerogative of declaring war and peace should be exerted by the 
sovereign with the consent of the estates. This was for the purpose 
of leaving Scotland at hberty to engage, or not, as she thought best, 
in the Continental wars of England. 

* The clause which foUows is wanting in the act as finally approved hv the queen ; 
yet the Parliamentary journals show that it was regularly incorporated into the original 
bill, and they attbrd no evidence of its having been subsc(iucntly reconsidered and struck 
out by the legislature. See Acts of the rarliaments of Scotland ( printed iiy command of 
George IV., 1824), Vol. xi. pp. 137, 70, and App. 2-i. — Laing, on the authority of Sir J. 
Clerk (Memoirs and History of tlie Union, ]\IS.), states that it "was read and voted, 
but by some artifice omitted in tlie act." History of Scotland, bv Malcolm Laing, 
Esq., (Loudon, 1800,) Vol. ii. p. 283, note.— N. 
50 



442 LECTURE XXV. 

The English ministry had, therefore, now to determine whether 
the J should advise the queen to assent to this act, and make it law, 
or refuse her assent, risk a total breach with the Parliament of Scot- 
land, receive no more supplies, and have the act returned upon her 
in different shapes, if the Parliament was sitting, — perhaps have the 
country in a state of rebellion on the very first opportunity, if the 
Parhament was dissolved. Such was the crisis I have been speak- 
ing of. 

We here see, distinctly shown, what is sometimes the effect and 
what is always the tendency of harsh government, codperating with 
the real difficulties which the case of connected countries necessarily 
involves. 

Now the next question I would ask is this, — whether any pro- 
vision short of those in the act that passed, or even short of the 
limitations first proposed by Fletcher, and which I first read, would 
be sufficient properly to secure the ends proposed. It is very true 
that these limitations first proposed would have gone nigh to convert 
the monarchy of Scotland into a sort of republic with a stadtholder or 
president at its head ; at all events, they would have formed a sort of 
experiment, to show with how little power in the monarch a mixed 
government might be carried on. 

But what is the conclusion of the whole ? Surely this, — the care, 
circumspection, and kindness with which the ministry of a superior 
nation should carry on the government of any inferior and connected 
nation. We may here see plainly what men of intelligence and 
strong feelings are constantly thinking, while a cabinet is despising 
their country, its interests and its opinions. The truth, and the 
whole truth, is here fully displayed. 

One word more in the way of narrative, and for the same purpose 
of attracting your notice to the whole. The English minister, Godol- 
phin, in the absence, as he thought, of every other alternative, at last 
a(^vised the queen to give the royal assent to this Act of Security, 
and it was accordingly passed. Wharton, his political opponent, now 
triumphed ; " I have now, then," said he, to quote his own expression, 
" I have now the treasurer's head in a bag," Godolphin was prob- 
ably much of the same opinion ; and even the English nation — un- 
feehng as they had been to the interests and happiness of Scotland, 
and selfish and stupid as they were, and always mil be, to the claims 
and merits of every other nation, when their own trade to their colo- 
nies, and their own manufactures, are concerned — could at length, 
and for once, in this critical emergence, perceive that sacrifices must 
be made, and, at all events, that such questions as had lately been agi- 
tated in Scotland, nearly amounting to a revolution and a civil war, 
must be avoided. There seemed no other way of attempting to avoid 
them but by a union of the two kingdoms, complete and entire ; and 
in this manner the English nation, as well as the English ministry, 



UNION OF ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND. 443 

vrere at last rendered no longer the coy and supercilious parties -svitli 
whom Scotland had before to treat, but the ardent proposers and 
claimants of a measure, without which, as they represented, and 
truly represented, all chance for the tranquillity and prosperity of 
both countries was at an end. 

I stop to observe, that, when the Act of Security was known in 
England, a retaliating act was passed by the English Parliament; 
that is, a proper spirit, as it was called, was shown, and the breach, in 
fact, made wider, and the crisis more dangerous. This sort of spirit, 
or rather of folly, on such occasions is always shown. What was the 
result ? Before the Scotch Parliament could be brought to treat of 
the Union at all, the English Parliament were obliged to repeal their 
act. 

The point of interest that next presents itself is, hoiv the Union 
was carried. This is a part of the subject which cannot be contem- 
plated without pain. It was carried by force and fraud. The victo- 
ries of the Duke of Marlborough left England with a strong military 
force at her disposal ; and the Duke of Hamilton proved at last a 
traitor to his country ; so did others. This foul name must belong to 
him, and must always more or less belong to all men who on great 
public occasions pursue even the right measure only because they are 
corrupted, Avho act upon any motives but those of the good of their 
country. Men may mistake the interests of their country ; this is 
very pardonable ; they cannot engage to be wise, but they may to be 
honest. It is of no consequence in what manner the bribe that 
makes them otherwise is administered, — a place to their friends, a 
purse thrown to themselves, or a coronet to their descendants, — the 
business is the same ; and this deflection from virtue, this sacrifice of 
principle, is in no way to be distinguished from the acts of dishonesty, 
from the mere picking and stealing, of the vulgar, but that there is 
no personal risk incurred by the great, and that the consequences are 
far more important to society. 

This part of the subject is painful on another account. The Union 
was a measure clearly conducive to the happiness of both kingdoms. 
The English ministry and nation had been thoroughly frightened, and 
they therefore made the terms of the Union as reasonable and as ad- 
vantageous as they could, the better to preclude opposition. It is, 
therefore, very melancholy to observe, in the first place, that a great 
nation like England could never adopt a proper system of poHcy 
before, and never behave with proper liberality and prudence, till 
both were extorted from her by the ungenerous motives of selfishness 
and fear. 

It is, again, very mortifying to observe how little the affairs of 
nations are affected by the influence of any calm and deliberating 
wisdom. The real merits of the measure seem to have had but Uttle 
effect with the generahty of those concerned ; a sort of opposition re- 



444 LECTURE XXV. 

sounded from every quarter. The meanness, ignorance, and coward- 
ice of it are instructive. 

We shall have our religion, said the Presbytery of Scotland, de- 
stroyed by the bishops in the English house. How can our sixteen 
peers oppose them ? — The Church, said the Enghsh bishops, on the 
contrary, the Church of England will be swept away, as it has before 
been, in the time of Charles the First, by this new influx of Presby- 
terians. 

Our manufactures will move away to the poor country where labor 
is cheap, said the English artists. — We shall be ruined, said the 
Scotch, by the superior articles of the English ; if they are allowed 
to bring them into our markets, how can we contend with their advan- 
tages of skill and capital ? 

What security for our country or our constitution, said the Scotch 
politicians, when the union has been once made ? We have only 
forty-five members in the one house, and sixteen in the other ; how 
can these oppose the whole English legislature ? We are destroyed, 
and that for ever. — What will become of us, said the English, when 
this new northern hive is allowed to swarm and settle upon our 
country and upon our houses of legislature ? These are invaders 
that are hungry, intelligent, and servile ; neither post nor place will 
be left for any of us. 

" The prostrate South to the destroyer yields 
Its purple harvests and its golden fields." 

Such are always, on great occasions like these, on subjects of great 
national conceruj — unions of kingdoms, for instance, treaties of com- 
merce, treaties of peace, abolitions of slavery, — such are always the 
contracted, wretched arguments and pretences which men make use 
of when they affect to debate, and are in fact not debating, but think- 
ing only of themselves and their own supposed interests. 

On this subject of the Union, the speeches of Lord Belhaven have 
been always adverted to. They are highly deserving of your peru- 
sal. They are rich with the proper beauties of eloquence, and very 
creditable to his age and nation. His celebrated speech you will of 
course examine. It has great merits, but appears to me (if for a mo- 
ment I may digress, merely to allude to a point of taste) objectionable 
in its original conception. It endeavours to accomplish two ends : 
first, the entire rejection of the Union, be the terms what they may ; 
secondly, its rejection on account of the terms. These objects are too 
much intermixed and united ; eloquence, more especially eloquence 
of the character of Lord Belhaven's, should attempt some one great 
object, and entirely carry it, or entirely fail ; it should throw all its 
force on the enemy, and cany every thing by storm, or instantly re- 
tire ; not descend to all the manoeuvres and forms of a regular engage- 
ment. The speech, too, begins with images and ends with reasoiungs. 



UNION OF ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND. 445 

It comes full and majestic clown its course, and then squanders itself 
into many channels, and seems to disappear as it proceeds to its ter- 
mination. There can be no greater fault than this. 

But I haste to call your attention to the speech of Mr. Seton, as 
well as that of Lord Belhaven. Seton spoke in favor of the Union. 
The speeches are very different in their character as well as their 
import. 

And now I must digress for another moment, to observe that elo- 
quence and wisdom are by no means the same thing. They are 
sometimes united, but not necessarily, — perhaps never, when elo- 
quence is the mere gift of nature rather than the slow result of nature 
and art conjoined. A ready supply of glittering language, and an 
ardent conception, — that is, a fertile imagination, and quick feelings, 
united to a retentive memory, — these are together qviite sufficient 
to make an orator, but by no means to make a wise man ; to make a 
speaker or even a leader in a popular assembly, but not necessarily a 
statesman. Amplification, for instance, is the great business of elo- 
quence ; while the first occupation of wisdom is to reduce every thing, 
if possible, to its original elements. The one distinguishes not, ex- 
amines not, hesitates not, reflects not ; the other is cautious, scrupu- 
lous, precise, patient, and deliberative. Enthusiasm is the soul of the 
one, calmness the essence of the other. 

I would recommend the speeches of Mr. Seton and Lord Belhaven, 
not only as very remarkable speeches on a very great occasion, and 
therefore as subjects of history, but as very finished specimens of the 
difference which I conceive to exist between wisdom and eloquence, 
and therefore fitted, if this distinction be just, to illustrate a truth 
of very ordinary application, and therefore of some value in human 
life. 

I have omitted, when speaking of Fletcher, to mention that those 
who meet with his works should look at his Account of a Conversa- 
tion concerning a Right Regulation of Governments for the Common 
Good of Mankind. It is in the repulsive form of dialogue, but it is 
the best exhibition of his pohtical views, and on the whole the best of 
his works. 

After all, Fletcher had the fault which so often belongs to men of 
strong feeUngs and earnest thought, when they meditate on the im- 
provement of the affairs of the world, — he was not sufficiently practi- 
cal. He had brooded over the contests and ambition of the nations 
of Europe, over the vices and follies of a great metropolis ; he had 
satisfied himself, that Scotland, " in a state of separation from Eng- 
land, would be perpetually involved in bloody and destructive wars ; 
and, if united,* must of necessity fall under the miserable and lan- 

* There is an important omission in this place, giving an air of paradox to the reason- 
ing, which disappears on a view of the entire passage in its proper connection. The sen- 
tence liere quoted is taken from the work noticed above, — " Account of a Couversa- 

LL 



446 LECTURE XXV. 

guishing condition " (such are his expressions) " of all places that 
depend on a remote seat of government." 

His plan for the remedy of these evils was, to divide Europe into 
different portions, each adequate to its own defence, and accom- 
modated by forts and capitals for the purpose, but not fitted for 
schemes of offence and aggrandizement. In England and Scotland 
were to be formed, in the mean time, about a dozen capital cities, in- 
stead of one overgrown capital like London ; by which means all the 
benefits, as he conceived, of our present metropolis would be secured, 
and its serious evils avoided. But without mentioning the very indis- 
pensable advantages that result from the concentration of so much 
of the affluence, genius, and intelhgence of the people into one point, 
advantages which seem never to have occurred to him, it seems suffi- 
cient to observe, in a few, short, melancholy words, that the great 
difficulty, on all occasions of projected improvement, is, to form a plan 
that is practical ; and that he who proposes what cannot possibly be 
expected to take place does nothing, — does worse than nothing, for 
he makes the very cause of improvement ridiculous. 

The particular temperament of Fletcher's mind, his disposition to 
attempt what he thought just rather than gain the good which was 
possible, the common mistake of virtuous reformers, operated, as it will 
always do, most unfortunately for himself and all those whose interests 
he could have wished to promote. If he and the patriots had made 
their bargain, and consented to support the measure of the Union in 
case certain conditions were complied with, — if they had submitted 
to turn to the best account this experiment for the improvement of 
the situation of both countries, there can be no doubt that the twenti- 
eth article, respecting heritable offices, superiorities, &c., &c., might 
have been materially modified, or perhaps, as in Cromwell's wiser 
ordinance, made directly the revei-se of what it was left to stand ; 
that the twenty-first article, also, might have been modified ; and by 
these means the system of vassalage and the representation of Scotr 
land might not have been left in a state fitted only, in succeeding 
times, to disgrace the legislature and injure the best interests of both 
kingdoms. 

tion concerning a Eiglit Regulation of Governments," &c. — '"I perceive now,' said 
Sir Edward, ' the tendency of all this discourse. On my conscience, he has contrived 
the whole scheme to no other end than to set his o^vn country on an equal foot with 
England and the rest of the world.' ' To tell you tlie trath,' said I, ' tlie insuperable 
diiSculty I found of making my country happy by any other way led me insensibly to 
the discovery of these things ; which, if I mistake not, have no other tendency than to 
render, not only my own country, but all mankind, as happy as the imperfections of 
human nature will admit. For I considered, that, in a state of separation from Eng- 
land, my country would be pcr])etually involved in bloody and dcstnictive wars. And 
if we should be united to that kingdom in any other manner [that is, in any other man- 
ner than on an equal foot], we must of necessity fall under the miserable and languish- 
ing condition of all places that depend upon a remote seat of government.' " The 
Political Works of Audi-ew Eletcher, Esq., of Saltoun, (Glasgow, 1749,) pp. 317, 
318. — N. 



UNION OF ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND. 447 

What in the mean time he attempted failed. Tlie very Act of 
Security, which he carried, became, as he might have foreseen, the 
very reason why the Enghsh were determined at all events to carry 
the Union. The Union became a direct consequence of the dilemma 
to which the two kingdoms were thus reduced, and we can conceive 
no sensations more keen and intolerable than were those of Fletcher 
and the patriots, who were now to find every labor of their under- 
standings defeated, and every passion of their heai'ts disappointed. 

Before I conclude this subject, I must mention, that the remainder 
of the book of De Foe, that is, the greater part of it, is a formal ac- 
count of the articles of the treaty of Union, and the discussions which 
took place. But these discussions can now interest or instruct only as 
specimens of the details and reasonings of men of business, when the 
commercial and ordinary concerns of nations are to be settled by 
treaties and mutual concessions. They give us, also, some insight 
into the relative state of the commerce, laws, and manufactures of 
the two countries at the time. But the pages of De Foe are, on the 
whole, formal and dull, and there is not even as good an account of 
the tumults at Edinburgh as might have been expected, though what 
is given forms one of the most interesting parts of the work. There 
is the same sort of formal, official representation of the Union, and 
its attendant circumstances and debates, in' Mr. Bruce. But with 
respect to both publications, it is to be observed, that from those who 
are employed by cabinet ministers to forward a great measure, like 
De Foe, or to report a great measure, like Mr. Bruce, it is only in- 
formation of a particular complexion than can be expected. 

With respect to the consequences of the Union, a considerable time 
elapsed, as will always be the case in such circumstances, before those 
happy effects took place which the measure was so fitted to produce. 
For this part of the subject I must refer you to Laing, who is, in- 
deed, too concise and too general in this very interesting part of his 
work, but who is an intelligent writer, and who at least gives more 
information on the point than others. 

The history of Scotland becomes, about the time of the Revolution, 
interesting to mankind, for it becomes connected with the Revolution 
in England, an event in which the best interests of human nature 
were deeply concerned. If Scotland had not sufficiently sympathized 
■with England, if William had not been acknowledged, and if after- 
wards the Protestant line of succession had not been established in 
both parts of the island, — if a civil war had ensued, and if the 
hardy and enthusiastic Jacobites of the North had been joined by 
their affluent and powerful neighbours, the Jacobites of the South, 
the exiled family might at last have been restored, the Revolution 
might have failed, and been a standing example for the generous and 
brave in every age and country, of the difficulties which attend all 
enterprises for the liberty of the people, — enterpi'ises alike accom- 



448 LECTURE XXV. 

panled, ifc would have been said, with disappointment and ruin, wheth- 
er attempted by Hampden and the patriots in the time of Charles, or 
by Lord Somers and King William in the reign of James. Happily, 
an issue so deplorable was escaped ; but the manner in which it was 
escaped gives an importance to this period of the history of Scotland 
which I think may well claim your attention, and which might, I 
must also think, have deserved the labors of Dr. Robertson. The 
subject, however, devolved upon Mr. Laing, and his very respectable 
History, particularly the second volume, I cannot but request you to 
peruse. 

I am hastening to my conclusion, but I must take this my only 
opportunity to say, in a few words, what I have to offer with respect 
to this interesting country of Scotland. Its history will of course be 
read in Dr. Robertson, and as his work is one of the most early books 
that are put into our hands, it must be read anew, for it is read before 
it can be understood. The history, indeed, presents a turbid and re- 
pulsive scene, which would have been little known to the inhabitants 
of this country, and still less to the readers of the Continent, if the 
picture of it had not been drawn by so masterly a hand, and if a ray 
of softer and more attractive light had not been shot athwart the 
gloom by the beauty and sufferings of the unfortunate, but not fault- 
less, Mary. 

Those difficulties with which Dr. Robertson had to struggle, aris- 
ing from the rude nature of the documents from which his History 
was to be drawn up, and which necessarily constitute so much of the 
merit of the work, cannot well be known by an English reader, but 
they may be distantly comprehended from the account of his life 
by Dugald Stewart, which should on this and many other accounts 
be read. Much of this sort of merit belongs also to Mr. Laing. 
By the labors of the two the public are put into possession of the 
whole of the history of Scotland that is important to us, and are fur- 
nished with what is valuable in those original materials which no phi- 
losophic diligence or taste for historical inquiry would ever have 
induced readers on this side the Tweed to estimate or examine for 
themselves. 

The first part of the history of Scotland is discussed only in a rapid 
and general manner by Dr. Robertson. The real subjects of his 
work are, very properly, the Reformation, Ehzabeth, and Mary. At 
the close of the whole there are a few pages, by way of conclusion, 
that are highly worthy of your meditation ; but to these must be 
added the first one hundred pages of the third volume of Millar's Ac- 
count of the English Government, for these supply what cannot be so 
well found elsewhere, philosophic remarks and information on the con- 
stitution and government of Scotland. 

The student cannot fail to keep in mind the history of the legisla- 
ture and Parliaments of his own country while he is reading of those 



UNION OF ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND. 449 

of Scotland. The fortunate manner in which our own Parliament fell 
into two houses, and remained, not, as in Scotland, united in one 
liouse, again presents itself to our observation, and its consequences 
to our reflection. The peculiarity in the Scotch Parliament, of the 
Lords of Articles, is also remai-kable, and in its history full of instruc- 
tion. 

On the whole, Scotland, as a country, has not been fortunate. 
May her subsequent prosperity reward, however late, the intelligence 
and courage by which her sons are distinguished ! She was placed, 
from the first, in proximity with a powerful state ; a situation most 
unfavorable. For a long scries of years she had her monarchy and 
her aristocracy ; but though they were directly opposed, and each 
abated the tyranny of the other, unhappily, no other power in the 
state ever seemed to exist. The people were nothing. Even the 
union of the two crowns in the person of our James the First was im- 
favorable to her liberties ; and it was not till the Revolution in 1688 
that the interests of the people began to be considered, — a late 
period, this, in the history of Europe. In the general struggle and 
contests that accompanied the Reformation, that Christian church, 
the Presbyterian, which, after the greatest calamities and the exer- 
cise of the most elevated virtues, she at last acquired for herself, as 
what she thought best, though not without its own very important 
merits, had been long distinguished for harshness, fanaticism, and in- 
tolerance. The union of the two kingdoms in the reign of Anne im- 
proved her condition in all these respects, but improved it slowly. 
Her system of law ever was, and has still remained, tedious, incon- 
venient, and expensive ; her system of representation wretched. The 
consequences of such a system have been but too inevitable. While 
her moral and political writers are of the most enlightened, bold, and 
generous cast, and are accused only of pushing the principles of 
speculation and inquiry too far, her practical statesmen and politicians 
have been in general remarkable chiefly for their selfishness and ser- 
vility ; and the same union of the two countries, which has added 
strength and range to our philosophy, fervor to our poetry, and spirit 
to our arms, has certainly not been favorable to the political morahty, 
and therefore not favorable to the civil hberties, of England. 



5T LL' 



450 LECTURE XXVI. 



LECTURE XXVI. 

SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. 

Having delivered to you what I liad to offer on the subject of the 
union of Scotland, we must now return to the history of England, 
which we left on the accession of George the First. The first object 
that claims our attention is the violence of the Whigs on their restorar 
tion to power. Of this violence, among the most durable monuments 
must be mentioned the articles of impeachment against Oxford, Boling- 
broke, and Ormond, and the report of a committee of the House of 
Commons commissioned to collect and examine such documents as 
were connected with the peace of Utrecht. This report and these 
articles become interesting from the great events to which they relate, 
and the distinguished characters whose private integrity and pohtical 
reputation are concerned, — Prior, Bolingbroke, Oxford ; and lastly, 
their accusers, the great leaders of the Whig party, Walpole and 
others. 

It must be confessed that these documents are much degraded by 
the foul insinuations and expressions of virulence which they contain. 
But suppose these terms of virulence, these serious accusations made 
by the Whigs, undeserved, there will still remain a very heavy 
weight of blame to be endured by the Tory leaders. They might not 
merit the title, which they sometimes received, of " the Frenchified 
ministry"; they might not have been guilty (I use the language of 
their Whig opponents) "of forming, without regard to the honor or 
safety of her late Majesty, maliciously and wickedly, a most treach- 
erous and pernicious contrivance and confederacy to set on foot a 
dishonorable and destructive negotiation," &c., &c. ; but they were 
too much disposed to secure themselves in power, and to make a 
peace at all events, as a means to accomplish that end ; they were 
too ready to make a peace with or without their allies ; and their con- 
duct was thus rendered not always wise, and sometimes even dis- 
honorable. 

In the writings of Mr. Coxe you will see the opinion of a very 
regular and respectable historian, and it is entirely against the Tory 
ministry. He is even more decided, and more disposed to reprobate 
their conduct, in his late work on the Kings of Spain of the House 
of Bourbon, than before ; that is, the more he has read and examined, 
the more unfavorably he thinks of them. The War of the Succes- 
sion and the peace of Utrecht cannot, indeed, be properly estimated 
without a reference to his works, particularly his last work, on Spain. 
I conclude, from the general tenor of his expressions and manner, that 



SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. 451 

he is prepared to say that Europe is at this moment suffering, and 
has never ceased to suffer, from the unpardonable faults and mistakes 
of the Tory ministry of Queen Anne. 

We thus arrive at that particular period of our history which may 
be described under the general term of the era of the administration, 
or at least of the influence and administration, of Sir Robert Walpole. 
It is important, because the Brunswick family were establishing them- 
selves, during this interval, upon the throne of these kingdoms, and 
because in their success were involved the concluding fortunes of the 
Revolution. This great and happy renovation or assertion of the 
free principles of our mixed government had been with difficulty ac- 
complished by the illustrious William. The splendid victories of 
Marlborough threw a glory around the Whigs, the party which he at 
last espoused, and for some time seemed to set at a distance all hopes 
of a counter-revolution in favor of the Stuarts ; but these hopes had 
so revived about the close of the reign of Anne, and it was an experi- 
ment so novel and unpromising to bring a new race of princes from 
Germany to rule the kingdom, ignorant of its constitution, and even of 
its language, that a very considerable interest belongs to this part of 
our history from the uncertainty that on this account still hung over 
the issue of the great struggle that had been made for our liberties. 

The merit of Sir Robert Walpole has been always understood to be 
the transcendent mei'it of having most materially contributed to es- 
tablish the present family on the throne, or, in other words, of having 
rendered at last triumphant the great cause of the Revolution of 
1G88. This is the first and groat interest that belongs to these times, 
and to the character of this minister. There are, however, other sub- 
jects of curiosity connected with this era. It was still the classic age 
of England. The events and characters belonging to it are still illus- 
trated in the immortal writings of Pope, of Addison, of Bolingbroke, 
and Swift. The Parliamentary leaders were men of distmguished 
abihty, — Walpole, Pulteney, Shippen, Sir William Wyndham, Lord 
Hardwicke, Lord Carteret, Lord Chesterfield; and it was towards 
the close of the same era that first arose the great orator of England, 
the first Mr. Pitt, who was afterwards destined to realize, on many 
occasions, even the splendid visions which have been given of the 
eloquence of Demosthenes by the enthusiastic admiration of Longinus. 

Of the different topics that occur in the perusal of this part of our 
history, several are very striking, and there are some that can never 
lose their importance : the Septennial Bill, — the South-Sea Scheme, 
— the Peerage Bill, — the rise and progress of the sinking fund, — 
the national debt, — the secret and open efforts that were made to 
restore the Pretender, — the long peace that was maintained between 
England and France, — the struggles of the great Tory, Whig, and 
Jacobite parties, — the views and language of each, — the concerns 
of Ripperda, Atterbury, Bolingbroke ; and considerable entertain- 



452 LECTURE XXVI. 

ment, and very rational entertainment, may be derived from such 
particulars as have come down to us of the character and manners of 
the first two monarchs of the house of Brunswick, and more particu- 
larly of Queen Caroline, not to mention such anecdotes as remain of 
the German favorites and mistresses by which these reigns were so 
unfortunately disgraced. 

Such is a slight and general view of the attractions that this era of 
our history presents to those who would wish reasonably to amuse 
their leisure or usefully to employ their diligence in historical pur- 
suits. It happens, too, that the whole is put immediately within the 
reach of every reader by the labors of Mr. Coxe. His Memoirs of 
Sir Robert Walpole, in the first volume, give an authentic account 
of the views and situation of that minister from time to time, and of 
the measures that were the result. The two succeeding volumes 
contain the documents on which most of the representations contained 
in the first are founded. In the preface is given a reference to other 
great works connected with this subject, — Boyer's Political State, 
and others. These works are voluminous, and seldom to be met with 
but in particular libraries in London, — in the British Museum, for 
instance. In addition to the work of Coxe, we have also accounts of 
the public debates in the Lords and Commons, and we have Tindal's 
History. 

On the whole, therefore, I would recommend to my hearers to take 
the modern pubHcation of Belsham, and to read it in conjunction with 
Coxe ; then to refer occasionally to the two volumes of the correspond- 
ence of , Coxe ; and to refer continually to the Parhamentary debates, 
which may be read in Cobbett. 

Tindal's History is valuable, and should be looked at when the 
subject is important. Smollett's work is a rapid performance, but 
not worthy of its author. Smollett was a man not only possessed of 
a strong vein of coarse humor, but one of laborious activity and of a 
powerful mind, fitted therefore to succeed in a literary enterprise. 
On this occasion, however, it is understood that he was desirous only, 
and employed only, to draw up a narrative on the Tory side of the 
question. It was his fate, as it has been but too often the unhappy 
fate of men of genius, to be obliged to convert literature into a means 
of subsistence. 

On the whole, Coxe's book and Belsham's, with a reference to 
some of the principal debates, will be sufficient for the general 
reader. The preface to Coxe's work, and the notes, will give suf- 
ficient information to those who thmk it necessary to investigate to 
the utmost the whole, or any particular part, of this period of our 
annals. 

It will be found often entertaining and instructive to turn over the 
leaves of the London Magazine and the Gentleman's Magazine. 
Pubhcations like these, when they can be had, give the manners and 



SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. 453 

opinions living as they rise, and seem to have been the precursors of 
the more ample and regular annual registers, which will hereafter af- 
ford so endless a field of amusement and inquiry to the philosophic 
readers of history. 

I have hitherto said nothing of the Continental politics of these 
times. They may be studied in Coxe, — not only in his Life of Sir 
Eobert Walpole, but in his second work, the Life of Sir Robert's 
brother, Horace Lord Walpole. Were Europe now what it once 
was, I should recommend them to be so studied very attentively, but 
I know not that such attentive study can now be thought very neces- 
sary. The intrigues and negotiations connected with them were 
comphcated and tedious. They were the subjects of great contro- 
versy ; Pultcney and the opposition contending that the interest of 
Britain was sacrificed to Hanover, — Walpole and his brother insist- 
ing that the interest of Britain was steadily pursued. The volumes 
of Coxe afford ample opportunity to those who wish to study this part 
of the general subject, and two or three of the pamphlets he alludes 
to will be found in all collections of pamphlets relating to these times, 
and may be looked at. 

The cliief reason why I should wish the Continental pohtics and the 
documents connected with them to be considered is, that they are a 
good study to a statesman, because courts, and cabinets, and minis- 
ters, and ambassadors are much the same at all times, with the ex- 
ception of any such extraordinary crisis as has occurred during the 
opening and progress of the French Revolution ; consequently, they 
who wish to know how they are to comport themselves, the chicanery 
they are to meet with, the acuteness and fine talents which they 
ought to possess (a point which our young men of family do not 
always consider, when they propose themselves for diplomatic situa- 
tions), they who wish to know the caution with which they must pro- 
ceed, when they act as ministers of state or ambassadors, may here 
find their lesson, and better given, perhaps, than in any other his- 
torical records that can be mentioned, because the documents fur- 
nished by Coxe are authentic, and many of them of a confidential 
nature. Li this way, then, and for this purpose, they may be studied 
to advantage. 

The great subjects that are before the student are, as usual, the 
state and progress of the civil liberties of the country, of the religious 
liberties, and, now more than ever, its commercial prosperity, under 
which head must be included the new system of a regular national 
debt, with all its consequences. 

And first, with respect to the state and progress of the civil fiber- 
ties of the country. 

The great point, and that which I have mentioned as giving a pre- 
dominant interest to the whole, as forming the more peculiar merit 
of Walpole, is, that he secured the house of Hanover on the throne. 



454 LECTURE XXVI. 

In this every thing that concerned the civil and religious liberties of 
the country may be considered as involved, for, if this had not been 
effected, the experiment of the Revolution had failed, and with it the 
great cause of both. 

But in other respects, the civil liberties of the country were partly 
progressive, and partly not. Thus, for instance, they were progres- 
sive, because the speeches from the throne always proceeded upon 
principles favorable to the liberties of the subject, some of them re- 
markably so : you will see specimens of them in the Note-book on the 
table. No harsh measures were insisted upon ; the excise scheme 
was given up, entirely upon the ground of the expediency of mild 
government ; Sir Robert Walpole declaring, and to his immortal 
honor declaring, that, though his opinion remained the same, he 
would not be the minister who should carry on any measure of this 
sort by force. Not only in England, but in Scotland and in Ireland, 
proper attention was shown to pubhc opinion by this wise, and, in 
this respect, very virtuous minister. Publications of great spirit, 
ability, and virulence continually issued from the press in opposition 
to his administration ; yet the liberty of the press was, by the minis- 
ter, not violated. It even appears that Sir Robert had his own writ- 
ers in regular pay, who, as well as Lord Hervey and his brother, ad- 
dressed the public in his defence, and that a continual appeal was 
thus made to the community in a way very well fitted, notwithstand- 
ing all that may be said of faction and party, to advance their im- 
provement and political happiness. 

Particulars of this nature are very favorable specimens of this 
minister, and of the progress of the civil liberties of the country. 
There are others not so. The Septennial Bill had been carried, 
and yet place bills during the era of his power were always rejected. 
Again, when each new Parliament met, the decisions on controverted 
elections were made, not so much upon the merits of the case, as 
upon the party principles of the candidate ; and because Sir Robert 
was the minister, and could therefore carry all such questions in favor 
of his own friends, no effort was made to remedy so obvious and so 
fatal a defect in the constitution. 

But it is impossible for the student to form any proper estimate of 
the progress and state of the civil liberties of the country, during 
this period, without adverting to the debates that took place in the 
houses of Parliament, and to these, therefore, I must direct your at- 
tention. 

I must observe, however, once for all, that the exact point of the 
propriety or impropriety of the reasonings of our ancestors is not so 
much the question itself, as what was the spirit, and what the notions, 
Avhich were then thought constitutional and worthy the adoption of 
Enghshmen. These may be right, though their application may be 
wrong. What the inhabitants of a free country should endeavour to 



SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. 455 

attain is, to preserve in purity and vigor those feelings and those 
principles which did their ancestors honor, and then afterwards shape 
and direct them to the accomplishment of proper objects, as circum- 
stances require. 

What I would therefore propose to the student is, to take the de- 
bates, and observe those subjects which are more evidently of a gen- 
eral and constitutional nature. Let him consider what was, on such 
occasions, the language of our patriots and statesmen, and he will 
then derive a general impression from the whole which cannot possibly 
be conveyed to him by any other means. 

Let him take, for instance, the question of the Mutiny Act. The 
speeches in the House of Commons are, it is true, not given, but he 
will see that the question of death (that is, death to be inflicted by 
the military, not the civil power) was carried only by two hundred 
and forty-seven to two hundred and twenty-nine ; and when he fol- 
lows the bill, as he must in all cases do, to the House of Lords, he 
will there see a debate, and he must in this case, as in all others, 
mark well the protest. The articles of war may be found in Tindal's 
History, and should be read. 

Again, let him observe, by all means, the debates that took place, 
when the number of the forces for each year came to be voted. This 
subject should be pursued from volume to volume. The debates were 
always interesting, characteristic of the times, of the constitutional 
notions of our ancestors, and of the leading speakers of the Houses. 
In the course of one of these debates, Shippen, the famous Tory, or 
rather Jacobite member, was sent to the Tower. In one of these 
discussions there is a very good speech from Mr. JeflFeries. In the 
Lords, too, you will find the debates on this subject (the subject, in 
fact, of a standing army) well worthy that great assembly, and the 
protests sometimes very good. 

Again, in these debates of the two Houses, during the era before 
us, the subject of pensions and places often occurred, and the pro- 
ceedings that took place should always be noted. A great jealousy 
on this subject was considered, in these days, as patriotic ; I say 
patriotic, because these bills were contended for by the opposition ; 
and an opposition, whatever may be thought of their real opinions and 
views, must at least endeavour to distinguish themselves by an ap- 
parent attachment to such measures as awaken the honest approba- 
tion of the community. Of this character, therefore, must have been 
thought their efforts to diminish the influence of the crown. These 
efforts were made in motions to address his Majesty to retrench un- 
necessary pensions, and in bills to limit the number of placemen in 
the House of Commons. "What the court thought of such efforts may 
be collected from the expression of George the Second, a patriotic 
monarch, but irritable man, with narrow views, and who therefore 
honored one of these with the appellation of " that villanous bill." 



456 LECTURE XXVI. 

Bills of this sort sometimes succeeded in the Commons, but always 
failed in the Lords, Sir Robert thinking it liis best policy to stifle 
them there. The debates must be read in the different volumes. 
The first speakers interfered, and their speeches continually illustrate 
the nature of our constitution. 

In the Lords, the debates on these occasions were, in general, very 
good ; the protests sometimes remarkable. In one of these debates, 
Dr. Sherlock, then Bishop of Bangor, expressed himself in terms that 
seem to have produced a very great sensation at the time : — " That 
an independent House of Commons was as inconsistent with our con- 
stitution as an independent, that is, absolute, king." It may be re- 
membered, that Dr. Paley, in his chapter on the British Constitution, 
conducts his reasonings pretty nearly to the same conclusion. I would 
more particularly refer you to the debate that took place in the Lords, 
in March, 1739 * : all the great speakers interfered. I am not aware 
that I could produce, from any of these volumes, a specimen of calm 
and perspicuous reasoning so beautiful as the speech dehvered on this 
occasion by Lord Carhsle. 

It is to be observed in debates like these, that arguments are often 
brought against the provisions of a bill by those who are unfavorable 
to the very principle, and who would equally argue against all pro- 
visions to the same effect, be they what they might. The first point, 
therefore, to be considered in reading such debates is, whether the 
principle is made out to be just and constitutional. The next, and 
to us an inferior, though still an important consideration, is, whether 
our ancestors contrived the provisions of these bills with legislative 
skill ; and though this may or may not have been the case, the origi- 
nal principle and intention of the bill may still be right, and worthy 
of the attention of posterity. 

One great question that gives interest to these times, and to the 
debates of these times, is the Septennial Bill. Originally, the Par- 
liament had no precise limit of duration; one sat in Charles the 
Second's time for seventeen or eighteen years. William the Third, 
however, was induced at last to consent to the Triennial Bill, which 
limited the duration to three years. To enact, therefore, the Sep- 
tennial Bill was to diminish the extent of the victory which the popu- 
lar part of the constitution had obtained, and the measure has there- 
fore been always made a matter of reproach to the Whig party. In 
this reproach, when I first gave lectures, more than twenty years ago, 
I concurred, — unwillingly, indeed ; for to the Whigs of the last cen- 
tury I then believed, and I shall always believe, we owe all the con- 
stitutional blessings Ave enjoy ; but I have since satisfied myself, from 
what I understand of the nature of the Stuart Papers, and what I 
have learned from other sources, that the measure of the Septennial 

* Old Style. The debate is given in Cobbett under the year 1740. Parliamentary 
History, xi". 510-578. — N. 



SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. 457 

Bill was necessary to the maintenance of the Brunswick family on the 
throne, and that a general election at the time could not have been 
ventured upon. It is to be observed, also, that the Triennial Bill had 
been enacted but twenty years before, and was a fair subject of revis- 
ion. The speeches, however, of Shippen and others are worthy of 
attention; and particularly the speech of Sir Robert, in the year 1734, 
when the repeal of the bill was brought forward, and when he placed 
his argument on the fair and right ground, that the Septennial Bill 
had improved the constitution, and prevented it from being too demo- 
cratic* 

One of the most striking circumstances in the administration of Sir 
Robert Walpole Avas the conduct of the nation on the subject of the 
Excise Scheme. It was a very striking exemplification of the constitu- 
tional jealousy which animated our ancestors at this particular period. 
Tiie minister found himself at last obliged to abandon his measure, 
and the opposition to the bill owed its success entirely to the sensation 
that Avas excited in the community on that general ground of consti- 
tutional jealousy. " Liberty, property, and no excise," was every- 
where the cry, and the cry that triumphed. The sentiment, whether 
in this instance judiciously applied or not, did the community honor. 
It was a sentiment received from earlier times, and was, then, even in 
its application on this occasion, neither so unreasonable nor so un- 
necessary as by some may have been pretended. Summary convic- 
tions before commissioners or justices of the peace, without the inter- 
vention of juries, were very properly considered by Englishmen at 
all times as a subject of alarm and aversion. Equally so, and with 
equal justice, the entry of a king's officer into the dwelling of a private 
man by day or by night at his pleasure. That every Englishman's 
house is his castle has been always a favorite maxim in this happy 
island ; " and when I speak of a castle," said once the great orator 
of England, Lord Chatham, he Avho loved to produce and cherish 
these honorable feelings of his country, " I speak not of a mansion, 
the abode of some potentate or baron, surrounded with fortifications 
and towers, and garrisoned with soldiers, but I speak of a tattered and 
wretched hovel, the dwelling of some laborer or peasant, which the 
wind and the rain can enter, but the king cannot enter." 

We may ourselves be obliged to submit to the necessities of our 
situation, and be satisfied to obtain revenue in the best manner we 
can, but the notions of our ancestors should never be forgotten ; still 

* On this subject, when I first delivered these lectures, I dwelt at some length, sum- 
ming up first in favor of triennial, afterwards of quinquennial Parliaments; but this 
was in the reign of George the Third. The question lias been fundamentally altered 
by the ])assing of the Reform Bill. The diifii-ulty now is, not to keep the representa- 
tive attentive to tlic wishes of his constituents, but to Iceep him from being a delegate. 
Again, the only means by which tlie king can maintain his consequence in the system 
of the constitution is his power of dissolving the Parliament, a power whicli would be 
materially, and now dangerously, interfered with by sliort Parliaments. 

Z)'6 M M 



458 LECTURE XXVI. 

less should it be forgotten, that, among many other unhappy effects 
that accompany a system of taxation, one, and not the least melan- 
choly, is the tendency that every such system has to destroy, more or 
less, as it is more or less urged, the free spirit, the free laws, and the 
free men of every regular and civilized community. 

We are not, therefore, in my opinion, to read Avith indifference such 
sentiments as were then delivered by several members of the House ; 
and we are to pardon men, even if they forget themselves a httle, 
when their feelings are honorable, and the free constitution of a great 
nation excites their anxiety and alarm. I must refer you to these 
debates : I had made extracts for the purpose of reading them to you, 
but I am obUged, for want of time, to omit them. 

It will, however, be an eternal honor to the memory of Sir Robert 
Walpole, that, when his friends wished him to persevere, to despise 
what they, no doubt, called popular clamor, and show that govern- 
ment was not to be awed, tliis reasonable minister thought it more be- 
coming to give way, to pay respect to public opinion, as he forfeited 
no moral duty by doing so, and not to suppose that government has 
no other and no better attributes under which to be presented to the 
community than those of force and terror. 

I would now wish to draw your attention to another subject, one 
connected with the character of Sir Robert Walpole, with the history 
of these times, and with the history of our constitution ; I mean the 
manner, or rather the means, by which Sir Robert Walpole so long 
conducted the administration of government in this country. These 
means, it was always objected to him by his opponents, were bribery 
and corruption, the power of the purse : such is the phrase continually 
occurring in the writings of Bohngbroke. This representation is con- 
sidered by Burke as unjust ; he considers Sir Robert as having ruled 
by party and family connections. On the whole, the student may 
fairly suppose this celebrated minister to have ruled by the powers of 
liis own sound and clear understanding, the effect of liis amiable and 
social qualities ; and, in conjunction with these, by what is called the 
influence of government, no longer appearing, as formerly, in the pal- 
pable and offensive forms of the prerogative, but in the natural and 
peaceful agency of aU the posts and employments under the disposal 
of the crown, in a highly prosperous and civilized state of society. 
This influence, it is to be observed, is not at all inconsistent mth the 
agency of the party and family connections mentioned by Mr. Burke. 
Sir Robert Walpole availed liimself of both ; so have other ministers. 
The one is, indeed, to a certain extent, connected with the other ; for 
it is by this influence of posts and places that a minister can be as- 
sisted in attaching to himself party and famUy connections, and they 
their dependants. 

The first inquiry, therefore, to be made by the student, as a reader 
of history, is, how far this influence was or was not favorable to the 



SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. 459 

country during the times of Sir Robert Walpole. On the one side, — 
that is, the objectionable nature of this influence, — he will consider 
how fruitless were the efforts of the opposition to advance the in- 
terests of the popular part of the constitution ; that the place bills 
were all lost, and so of every other attempt to the same end. But 
on the other side he must consider how steadily was maintained the 
influence of the Hanover family on the throne, — that is, the cause 
of the Revolution, — which, as I cannot too often repeat, was the 
real and great question, exceeding every other in importance, not 
only to the constitution, but even more especially to this popular part 
of it. Such, indeed, was the very critical nature of this period, the 
preposterous wishes of the Jacobites, the unfortunate opmions of the 
Tories, and the disadvantages under which the first two monarchs la- 
bored, resulting partly from their situation and partly from their own 
faults, that it is for the student to consider very carefully, whether it 
was at all desirable that the influence of the government should have 
been less than it was during this particular era, and whether Sir 
Robert's talents, qualities, opinions, and the means of influence which, 
as minister of the crown, he possessed, did not conspire most happily 
at this particular juncture for the preservation of the liberties and in- 
terests of these kingdoms. This is the question which it is for him to 
consider, not for me to determine ; and this is what I beg leave to re- 
mind him is the sort of contemplative and critical manner in which 
he is to read the history of this, and, as much as possible, the history 
of every other country. 

But when this question has been determined, and it must be deter- 
mined, I think, in favor of Sir Robert, another yet remains, — how 
far this influence has been subsequently too great, — that is, not 
merely during the administration of Sir Robert, which is the first 
question, but through the periods that have succeeded, which is en- 
tirely another. 

And in the first place, this question, too, is one partly of historical 
fact, and must be borne in mind by the student as he descends 
through the remainder of our history. In the mean time, however, 
and the better to furnish the student with the principles which he is 
to apply to the characters and events of our history, it is at tliis point 
of his progress that I would propose to him the perusal of some of the 
writings of Lord Bolingbroke. Lord Bolmgbrokc is one of the classics 
of our literature : but he was also one of the great poHtical characters 
of tliis period, the opponent and inveterate enemy of Walpole ; and 
his personal qualities and liis writings (liis political writings, which 
are all I am now concerned with) may be said to be m reality sub- 
jects of history. His Dissertation on Parties (and, out of deference 
to the opinions of others who admire it, I must also mention his Patriot 
King) will, I conceive, be quite sufficient for your perusal. 

From Lord Bolingbroke's Dissertation on Parties, I would next 



460 LECTURE XXYI. 

recommend you to turn to the Avork of Mr. Burke, — to his Thoughts 
on the Cause of the Present Discontents, particularly the latter 
part. These compositions of Lord Bolingloroke and Mr. Burke seem 
to me connected together. For instance, we have said that Sir 
Robert governed this country by his personal qualities, and by party 
and family connections, in conjunction with the influence of the 
crown. To this system of government Lord Bolingbroke objects. 
But it is explained and commented upon and defended by Mr. Burke. 
Again, Lord Bolingbroke conceives the proper effect of the Revo- 
lution to be defeated by the powers of corruption which every minister 
has since enjoyed, and which he derives from the crown. Mr. Burke 
thinks, with Lord Bolingbroke, that this influence of the crown is, and 
may be, too great, but he views the subject in a new and different 
light, and, in fact, conceives that this influence of the crown can now 
be opposed in practice only by those very party connections which it 
is the object of Lord Bolingbroke's Dissertation to discountenance 
and destroy. This is a very curious question, and one which can 
never be without its interest while our free and mixed constitution 
survives. 

There is an air of freedom and purity of principle about such sen- 
timents as are uttered by Lord Bolingbroke (not, indeed, the most ex- 
emplary of characters himself) well fitted to captivate the minds of 
men of \artue and public spirit. Corruption is the great topic of his 
lamentations and invectives. His great hope is a House of Com- 
mons that in some way or other shall be elevated above all sinister 
views ; the members of which, unlike the members of any other body 
that ever appeared in society, are to be influenced by no consideration 
but the mere merits of the question before them. Views of this kind 
are always very animating and attractive to those who, like Lord 
Bolingbroke, can write or speak beautiful sentences, or think they 
can, and to many a youthful patriot, whose heart is sufficiently good, 
and understanding sufficiently somnolent, to dream over the visions of 
superficial or designing men. Statesmen of any sense or experience 
look not for such prodigies ; they know, as Mr. Burke has observed, 
what stuff all supernatural virtue is made of; and when the corruption 
of Parhament is represented as the beginning, middle, and end of all 
our grievances and calamities, they only see in a talker of this kind 
an artist who knows not the nature of his materials, or a future 
courtier at present in disguise ; they know that men are, in public, 
as m private life, some good, some bad, and that to depend on the 
unmixed personal virtue of men, in the formation of a government, as 
a principle, and a foundation on which to rest the public weal, is 
puerile and ridiculous in the extreme ; that in a constitution, as in a 
machine, the question always is. Does it work well ? and finally, that 
there is no hope that it should do so, unless the great leading in- 
terests, and selfish passions, and ordinary virtues of our nature are so 



SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. 461 

mingled, and opposed, and directed, as in the result to operate pretty 
steadily to the advancement and security of the public prosperity ; 
that, unless this is done, nothing is done, and that this is done in a most 
remarkable manner, notwithstanding all its anomalies, in the British 
constitution. Something is, indeed, said, when useless places at the 
disposal of the crown are pointed out, and it is proposed to abolish 
them ; remove temptations from men, and you will contribute to make 
them more virtuous ; but nothing can be a more miserable waste of 
public talents in the speaker or writer, or of public virtue in the 
])atient hearer or reader, than these vague and flowing harangues on 
the subject of corruption. There are seasons, indeed, when they may 
fall innocent on the ear, but there are other seasons when writings 
or speeches of this kind are clearly of the nature of sedition, and 
become perfect treason to the practical liberties and prosperity of the 
realm ; they may be at one time the mere mewlings and wailings of 
the cradle (such they appear to me), — they may be at another the 
thunders and lightnings that issue from the tribune. 

These observations will, I hope, not be found unreasonable by those 
who read the works of Lord Bolingbroke, and at the same time ob- 
serve the world around them. They were made by me many years 
ago, and succeeding years have but confirmed them. His Dissertation 
on Parties is, on the whole, too long ; it will often feel tedious. The 
same may be said of all his political works, with the exception of his 
Letter to Sir William Wyndham, which is a perfect model of writing 
or speaking to any statesman or man of the world.* 

"\Vith respect to the reUgious liberties of the country, they must be 
considered as materially advanced during the reign of George the 
First. They had much declined during the latter part of the reign 
of Anne. The Occasional Conformity and Schism Bills, which were 
then passed, had shown the connection that exists between civil and 
religious liberty, by showing that the same Tory ministers whose 
opinions were unfavorable to the one would be equally unfavorable to 
the other. But it is the glory of the reign of George the First and 
his Whig advisers, it is an eternal honor to the memory of the king, 
that his first minister, Lord Stanhope, came forward and proposed all 
the relief and kindness to those who differed from the Estabhshment 
which the temper of the community could then be brought to bear, 
and that they would have done more, if to do more had been in their 
power. The Occasional Conformity and Scliism Acts were repealed, 
and though the clauses m the Test and Corporation Acts for exclud- 
ing Dissenters from civil employments were suffered to remain, it had 

* I must observe, as I leave this subject, that positive briberj- •was practised bv Sir 
Robert, and by other ministers, both before and after his time ; by Lord Bute, I heiieve, 
the last. Lord North used to job the loans. ]\Ii-. Pitt put an end to this disgraceful 
practice. Whatever may be said to the disparagement of our patriots and statesmen, 
the standard of public virtue is materially elevated in modern times. 

MM* 



462 LECTURE XXYI. 

been the original intention of the king and his ministers to repeal 
these restrictions also. The question of the Test was agitated during 
Sir Robert's administration ; but Sir Robert, though favorable to its 
repeal, could not venture to make it a measure of government. The 
debates are worth your perusal, and the proceedings of the legisla- 
ture with regard to the Quakers were very creditable to Sir Robert 
and the country. 

The circumstance that occurred most favorable to the religious 
liberties of the country was, that about this period of our history we 
ceased to hear of the Convocation, — the ecclesiastical parliament. 
Men of the ecclesiastical profession, however respectable or venerable 
in their individual capacities, have never met in bodies but they have 
become examples of any thing but toleration ; and this must neces- 
sarily be the case, without any particular fault of theirs, from the 
mere operation of the most established principles of our common na- 
ture. But it is on this very account that any change, which has a 
tendency to remove public concerns of this nature from their particu- 
lar management to the interference and therefore more equal manage- 
ment of statesmen, must be esteemed materially conducive to the in- 
terests of rehgious liberty. I must not now be mistaken ; I speak 
not with the slightest disrespect of men hke these, nor do I speak of 
them in the regular exercise of their clerical duties. I speak of them 
when meeting in an ecclesiastical parhament, or in large bodies, — 
" interpretando accendunt." 

Proceeding on in the general survey of our present subject, we 
may remark that Sir Robert Walpole was a man of good temper and 
good sense, and therefore not disposed, while minister, to countenance 
any harsh or offensive measures towards those who differed from the 
national church. But he can scarcely be considered to have advanc- 
ed the cause of religious liberty otherwise than by having kept the 
language, and as much as he could the practice, of the government 
at all times tolerant and mild. 

The commercial prosperity of the country must be considered as 
having greatly advanced during this period, from the accession of 
George the First to the Rebelhon of 1745. The merits of Sir Robert 
Walpole have in this respect been rated very high ; they are stated 
to be very great by Mr. Coxe. The subject is treated at pages 
163, 164 ; and an unpublished treatise by Dean Tucker is quoted in 
Sir Robert's favor. Tucker is very good authority ; and, on the 
whole, the claim of the minister to our praises must be admitted. 

But distinctions must be made, such as I apprehend will be found 
reasonable, whether we are speaking of Sir Robert "Walpole in Eng- 
land, or of Colbert in France, or of any other minister, or prince, or 
government, who are endeavouring to assist the prosperity of those 
committed to their care. 

In the first place, the merit of every man, and of every body of 



SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. 468 

men, must be estimated with a reference to the times in which they 
lived. Since the administration of Sir Robert, a new system of 
poUtical economy has been regularly presented, and successfully pre- 
sented, by Adam Smith, to the consideration of the rulers of man- 
kind ; and we have a right to blame those ministers of our own age 
who seem ignorant of its principles, though not on this account the 
ministers of former times. 

The good sense of Sir Robert, on particular occasions, enabled him 
to discover the science of human prosperity ; but no enlarged views 
on the East India question, for instance, on the question of Ireland, 
or on any other of this nature, appear to have made a part of his ordi- 
nary habits of reflection. 

" Without being," says Burke, in his masterly character of him, 
" a genius of the first class, he was an intelligent, prudent, and safe 
minister." This praise, and this abatement of it, we shall find just, 
even when surveying him as a minister sincerely interested in the 
commercial advancement of his country. This intelligence, this pru- 
dence, still enabled him, without the assistance of the more divine in- 
fluence of genius, to see and to provide for the interests of a com- 
mercial nation ; without anticipating the system of Adam Smith, he 
could, by the operation of his own excellent understanding, perceive 
that he should assist the prosperity of his country effectually by 
clearing away, as much as possible, the duties and impositions by 
which he found our commerce encumbered and impoverished. It is 
said that he found our book of rates the worst, and left it the best, in 
Europe, — a most important eulogium. We have here merit, and 
of a most solid nature ; a man in a high station going through minute 
details and tedious, disgusting examinations, and exerting his patience, 
his industry, and his talents in a sort of silent and obscure drudgery, 
where, though they were exerted highly to the benefit of the com- 
munity, they could not be exerted with that eclat to which they most 
assuredly were entitled. 

But his panegyric must not stop here. He not only did every 
thing in his power, and according to the lights which he then pos- 
sessed, for the emancipation of our commerce from vexatious inter- 
ruptions and impolitic charges, but, above all, he was the anxious 
friend, not only of order and mild government at home, but of peace 
abroad. This is his commercial panegyric, the highest and the best 
that any minister can aspire to. Men will better their condition, 
that is, the prosperity of their country will advance, without the as- 
sistance of the state, if their exertions are only not interrupted, and 
their labors not destroyed, by the interference of laws at home and 
the calamities of war abroad. Political economists require no more 
from princes, or ministers, or cabinets, or houses of assembly, than 
that praise, Avhich they so seldom deserve, the praise of being very 
cautious how they suffer themselves to be involved in war, of being 



464 LECTURE XXVI. 

very cautious how they destroy, in a few years or months, what no 
efforts of theirs will repair in ages. 

With this part of our subject is connected the consideration of the 
finances of England during this period, the measures of Sir Robert to 
improve them, and the claim which he has on this account to the ap- 
probation of posterity. You will find materials on which to exercise 
your judgment in Coxe and the debates. 

His great merit as a minister of finance has, in fact, been already 
stated ; for he best assists the finances of a country who best assists 
its prosperity, the source from which revenue is to be derived. But 
in the official part of his duty, his talents as a man of business seem 
to have been acknowledged, and may now by posterity be taken for 
granted. The good sense which he displayed through the whole 
progress of the affair of the South-Sea Scheme, from its first origin to 
its final settlement, is alone sufficient to immortalize him. Great 
credit has always been given him for the measure of the sinking 
fund. He has incurred much censure for his opposition to the 
scheme of Sir John Barnard. You will, I hope, be induced to con- 
sider these and other particulars of the same kind. They occupy a 
part of the debates of the two Houses, of the pages of Mr. Coxe, of 
Sir John Sinclair's work on the Revenue ; and to all of these I must 
refer. 

It is from materials such as I have mentioned in the course of this 
lecture that I think an estimate may be formed of the period we are 
now considering, and of the merits of Sir Robert Walpole. The 
Reminiscences of his son, the late Lord Orford, should also be looked 
at. They are short and entertaining. 

The London Magazine, and the Gentleman's, must be consulted, 
when any particular point in the history of this period is to be dis- 
cussed. They may even be looked at in conjunction with more regu- 
lar histories. The times are very faithfully reflected in these passing 
mirrors. Specimens are here to be found of the most noted pubhca- 
tions of the day ; essays occur, and often of great merit, on constitu- 
tional subjects, and some even on the subjects of political economy. 
The poetry of Swift and Pope may be seen in extracts adorning these 
pages, like the verses of the meanest of their contemporaries. Here 
may be noticed the first efforts of the strength of Johnson. We have 
the deaths, the marriages, the literary productions, of many whom we 
have heard of, and of many whom we do not hear of, and who httle 
thought to be so soon forgotten ; and if a walk in Westminster Abbey 
could occupy the mind of Addison, I see not why the student may 
not resort, for similar purposes of amusement and improvement, to 
these brief chronicles, these fleeting sketches of life and its concerns, 
these striking images of the transitory nature of every thing human. 
Other considerations will occur to him : comparing these periodical 
journals with our own, it will appear to him, as I conceive, that so- 



SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. 465 

ciety was less advanced, but that politics were then, as they ought al- 
ways to be, a subject of great interest to the inhabitants of these 
kingdoms ; and that, although the manners were less refined, and 
even less decent, (as evidently appears from the complexion of hu- 
morous pieces, particularly those in verse,) still that the great quali- 
ties of the EngUsh character were such as they have been always 
supposed, and were on the whole creditable to our country. 

Notices of these times, and of the great characters by which they 
were distingiiishcd, may be obtained from the works of Lord Chester- 
field. A character of Sir Robert Walpole is very properly extracted 
by Mr. Coxe from the writings of Mr. Burke, sketched with great 
accuracy of outline and strength of representation. 

The accusations against Sir Robert Walpole, such as they were 
urged by his opponents in and out of Parliament, in speeches and 
pamphlets, Avere these: — his fruitless negotiations, his destructive 
treaties, his subsidies with a view only to his Majesty's foreign do- 
minions, his votes of credit, his misapplication of the sinking fund, 
his discountenance of all proper measures for pajing ofi" the national 
debt, his disinclination to prosecute the Spanish war in the West 
Indies with the necessary vigor, — and, in a word, his putting a 
country, taxed, burdened, and almost exhausted, to all the annual 
charges of war, whilst he deprived it of the possibility of reaping any 
of its advantages by remaining in all the inaction of peace ; finally, 
that it was during liis administration, and from the influence of his 
politics, that France became powerful and Austria dechncd. 

Such were the accusations urged against Sir Robert, and enforced 
and adorned by the splendid talents of men hke Bolingbroke, Pulte- 
ney, Shippen, and Sir William Wyndham. These accusations may 
become very properly subjects of your reflection. They are obviously 
open to much explanation and discussion ; several of them such as 
a system like Sir Robert's was necessarily exposed to, — a system of 
preventive and defensiv^e pohtics. 

Lord Orford claims for his father, what cannot, I think, be denied 
him, the praise of sound judgment, strong abilities, fortitude, calm- 
ness, patience, humanity, an easy pleasantry, sound patriotism, and a 
steady attachment to the family on the throne. These are very 
great, or very useful, or very agreeable qualities. I see not how 
they are to be refused to the character of Sir Robert. When these 
are considered in conjunction with the reasons that are mentioned by 
Burke for the praise which he so deliberately weighs out to him, the 
observation of Mr. Belsham may, I think, be acceded to : that " a 
man, upon the whole, better adapted to the station which he occupied, 
or better qualified to discharge the various and complicated duties of 
it, could nowhere be found." — In the Note-book on the table you 
will see a character of Sir Robert by Hume, which appears in one of 
the early and now scarce editions of his Essays. 
59 



466 LECTURE XXVI. 

I have now laid before you all I have to offer on those general sub- 
jects which are connected with the administration of Sir Robert Wal- 
pole. But there is one to which I have not yet adverted, and which 
you will find fully detailed in the Note-book on the table, — the origin 
and progress of the dispute with Spain. I cannot here go into the 
merits of this question ; but nothing could be more humane and rea- 
sonable than the views and feelings of Sir Robert. I certainly A^dsh 
to attract your attention to it, because, among the great lessons of 
history, one of the most important is the poUcy, the justice, the duty, 
of the love of peace. 

But what truth so obvious as the desirableness of peace ? Why 
insist upon an obligation which has only to be understood, and admitr 
ted, — and which is understood as soon as it is proposed ? The fact 
is, that the duty is assented to, but not acted upon. It is with the 
doctrines of peace as with the doctrines of toleration, — men honor 
them in their words, not in their conduct ; and, with loud protes- 
tations of the respect they bear them, are never easy unless they are 
violating them, never easy unless they are gratifying their irritable 
passions, and subjecting every one around them, in the one case, to 
the superiority of their theological knowledge, and, in the other, to 
the terror of their arms. 

This subject, therefore, of the dispute with Spain, you will do well 
to study. You may do it with convenience in Coxe ; look also at the 
debates. You may in this manner see, if you please, what your an- 
cestors were on this occasion, and what you yourselves will probably 
be on all similar occasions. None of you can think ever to possess 
understandings more brilhant or more improved than were those of 
Pulteney, Sir William Wyndham, Lord Chesterfield, Lord Carteret ; 
and it can be only by taking warning from their mistakes that you 
can hope to be more wise. I must again repeat that I could wish to 
attract your attention to these proceedings. I could wish to induce 
you to draw general conclusions in favor of moderate counsels, pacific 
sentiments, calm reasonings, and dignified forbearance, on all oc- 
casions of our difierences with foreign powers, on all occasions 
when any such momentous interest as the shedding of the blood 
of man can be at issue. I must entreat you to observe how im- 
possible it was for the minister. Sir Robert Walpole, to state the 
truth, and the whole truth, without rendei-ing his hearers and the 
nation quite clamorous and outrageous, — how impossible to state the 
case of Spain. I must entreat you to consider whether it is not 
always thus, — I do not mean in our own nation exclusively, but cer- 
tainly in our own very particularly. I must entreat you to observe 
the popularity that then belonged to all warhke sentiments, — the 
violent and offensive terms in which the Spaniards were spoken of on 
every occasion ; and you will then consider the free nature of our 
government, the ease with which popular sentiments are circulated, 



SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. 467 

and how readily, in the progress of a quarrel, either of the pai'ties, 
though right in the origin of the dispute, may become wrong and at 
last the real aggressor, from the very insulting and overbearing 
manner in which redress may be claimed. 

Certainly, important lessons may be drawn from these proceedings 
by the inhabitants of this country ; and I must now finally observe, as 
I have before mentioned, that such lessons, in every free country like 
this, m.iy be very safely drawn, for in any such country there is no 
chance of any improper tameness or pusillanimity. In any such 
country personal courage Avill always be the indispensable requisite 
of every man, and the counsels of such a country will always be of a 
warlike, violent, and unjust, rather than of a reasonable, pacific, and 
equitable nature. The danger is always on that side ; and not only 
the philanthropist, but the statesman, in such a country as ours, can 
seldom be better employed than in countenancing and propagating, 
by every means in his power, a love of peace, habits of caution, 
patience, and good temper, habits of real magnanimity; for what, 
after all, is magnanimity but the union of such qualities with the fear- 
lessness of danger ? 

Having thus endeavoured to direct your thoughts to these transac- 
tions, and to what I conceive the proper inferences to be deduced from 
them, I must make one observation more. I have hitherto mentioned 
the conduct of Sir Robert, during the progress of this dispute with 
Spain, only to praise it ; a more painful task remains. I must dismiss 
it with endeavours to hold it out to you as a proper subject, in one 
respect, of your censure. 

In the course of these discussions, Sir Robert had not done the 
Spanish cause justice ; he had not told his own country the whole 
truth. Tliis I have already observed. His excuse might be, and it 
may be admitted, that this was not the way to procure peace, — that 
there was no chance for peace but his own continuance in power. 
Yet his patience, liis good temper, his reasonableness, his exertions, 
great and meritorious as they were, in the cabinet and in the senate, 
were all unavaiUng. He found them to be so. In defiance of every 
effort he could make, his eloquence, his influence, his management, 
his sacrifices of every kind, the event turned out to be, that the two 
nations were hurried into a war, and that he had no comfort left but 
that of having strenuously labored to prevent so fatal a termination of 
their difterences. 

There is even more than this to be considered. It appears that 
the king was eager for the war ; that Sir Robert was counteracted by 
the cabmet, blamed by many of his personal friends, reviled by the 
nation. The question, therefore, which is asked by Coxe should be 
asked by every reader, — Why did he not resign ? Why did he not 
endeavour to make some impression upon his countrymen by throw- 
ing up his emoluments and his honors ? This argument, at least, 



40$ LECTURE XXVI. 

they could not but have felt. Why were not his own honest fame as 
a statesman, and his character with posterity, as dear to him as they 
ought to have been ? Why did he not refuse his sanction to a system 
of conduct which he thought precipitate, violent, and unreasonable? 

It cannot be necessary, it cannot be proper, that a minister should 
have recourse to so strong a measure as the resignation of his office 
on light grounds and at every turn. Others are to have their opin- 
ions as well as himself ; mutual concessions and sacrifices may be 
made by honorable men faithfully cooperating in the administration 
of a government. But when points of principle in themselves sacred, 
when questions of importance, like the alternatives of peace and Avar, 
are at issue, then, indeed, it is not possible for a man of intelligence or 
spirit to proceed longer in his doubtful path amid the blended confines 
of right and wrong ; he must no longer assent to what he does not 
approve. He can discharge no more necessary duty to his country 
than to avow his opinion and act upon it. It may be that his opinion 
is right, and a salutary effect may be produced. But, on every sup- 
position, one good, at least, will be attained, — he will give an ex- 
ample of public virtue. 

The path of honor is always the path of wisdom ; and they who 
survey the situation of Sir Robert from the moment that he suffered 
himself to be persuaded by the king to continue in office (for he had 
the merit of proffering his resignation) will see no reason to call in 
question this great and universal maxim of human conduct. Sir 
Robert retained his place but two years, — his place rather than his 
power, — without comfort to himself or advantage to his reputation. 
Life itself he retained but a few years longer. What, then, were his 
gains in return for the mortifications he endured ? 

It is difficult, indeed, for men properly to engage in the affairs of 
mankind without being deeply interested in them. It is still more 
difficult to be thus interested, and at the same time to view them 
from that commanding height, and with those sentiments of philo- 
sophic criticism with which they will come at length to be surveyed by 
posterity. Yet such is the magnanimity, such the comprehensiveness 
of judgment, which are, and which ought to be, expected from the 
rulers of mankind ; and it is, therefore, with no pleasure that we ob- 
serve the character of Sir Robert so strongly marked by the great 
fault of all statesmen, an inordinate love of power, — that we observe 
him clinging to office till he was torn and driven from it, and even in 
his fall casting on it that longing, lingering look which was unbecom- 
ing him as a man of spirit, and unworthy of liim as a man of virtue. 

It is with no pleasure that we afterwards see him depressed and 
uncomfortable, because, when he was no longer the minister of the 
crown, no longer the centre round which the business of the empire 
revolved, he necessarily became an individual, visited, like other 
individuals, only by those who cherished him for his amiable and social 



SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. 469 

qualities, or v{\\o respected liim for his talents and liis virtues. Every 
attention appears to have been paid to him by those whose good 
opinion he had been accustomed to regard ; and what, then, are we 
to think of the account that is given of this celebrated statesman in 
the decline and fall of his power and of his life ? or rather, what in- 
struction can we hence derive for ourselves? 

If, indeed, as appears to have been the case, his residence seemed 
to him a solitude, — if, indeed, he had little taste for literary occupa- 
tions, and expressed liimself to this effect to a brother statesman who 
was reading in his library, — if he wished for a resource that would 
have alleviated, as he said, many tedious hours of liis retirement, — 
if, indeed, it was found (as we are told by Mr. Coxe) that to him 
who had directed the helm of government in England all speculative 
opinions appeared dull, — if to him who had drawn all his knowledge 
from practice all theory appeared trifling, — if to him who had long 
been the dispenser of wealth and honors a wide difference ap- 
peared between the expressions of those who approached him from 
motives of personal kindness and the homage Avhich had formerly 
been paid him by those who had courted him from motives of self-in- 
terest, — if this difference mortified and stung him, — if every thing, 
as it is said, seemed uninteresting to a man who, from the twenty- 
third year of his age, had been uniformly engaged in scenes of politi- 
cal exertion, — if such be indeed the portrait of the fallen statesman, 
as presented by his biographer, well may it become those of you who 
hear me, those who are gifted with faculties according to the ordinary 
measure, and those of you who are intrusted with the yet higher priv- 
ileges of superior talents, alike to consider how inestimable are those 
habits of literary occupation and of rational curiosity which are not 
only competent, under every change of fortune, to administer, even 
to men of common minds, the blessings of dignified activity and con- 
tented cheerfuhiess, but, when they are found united to the possession 
of great natural endowments, can accompany men in their fall, from 
the highest offices of the state to the obscurest depths of their retire- 
ment, and transfer a man like Bacon, though ruined and disgraced, 
from the cabinet of a prince to that high eminence and vantage-ground 
of philosophy and truth where kings from their humbler thrones might 
gaze upon him with reverence. 

I must even venture to urge reflections of this nature still further ; 
and without meaning for a moment to intrude upon the more sacred 
privacies of the character of Sir Robert Walpole, I cannot but take 
occasion from the facts, as they appear, to request you to consider 
how constantly exposed to concussions and to overthrow will assuredly 
be the happiness of every man who directs his thoughts too exclu- 
sivel>/ to the objects of ambition, — who, amid the business of man- 
kind, may have habituated himself too much to disregard that still 
more important concern which yet awaits him, and, amid the interests 



470 LECTURE XXVII. 

and anxieties of those who crowd around him for liis patronage, has 
suiFered himself to be hurried away and occupied till he becomes but 
too insensible of that yet more important connection which he is per- 
mitted to hold, not only with his fellow-creatures in this world, but 
with the Creator of the Universe himself, and which, when those 
crowds retire and his power is no more, when the more noisy and im- 
petuous calls of duty are hushed, when the claims of mankind seem 
to part away from him on every side, mil open at once to him an ob- 
ject of never-ceasing and even far superior anxiety and care, and 
leave him to the more exclusive and undisturbed enjoyment of that 
silent piety which shovild never have been banished from the medita- 
tions of his heart, and which, whether in health or in sickness, in his 
elevation or in his fall, will best explain to him the merits of his active 
life and the meaning of his earthly grandeur. 



LECTURE XXVII. 

1810. 

LAW. — MISSISSIPPI SCHEME. — SOUTH-SEA BUBBLE, etc. 

During the period which we have been lately considering, a re- 
markable connection of amity and good offices took place between the 
two rival countries of England and France. 

On the death of Louis the Fourteenth, the Duke of Orleans be- 
came, or rather made himself, regent ; the Duke of Bourbon suc- 
ceeded ; then came Cardinal Fleury. It is the era which comprehends 
the administration of the three that must engage our attention. 

The writers that we must read or consult are the following : the 
Memoirs of the Due de St. Simon ; the concluding volume of An- 
quetil's " Louis XIV., sa Cour, et le Regent" ; Memoirs of Duclos ; 
L'Histoire of Lacretelle. All these works may be read with ease and 
advantage ; but any one of them may be sufficient for the era which 
it embraces. The topics are in all the same. St. Simon is the 
groundwork of all the rest, and Duclos' s book is in its manner the 
most agreeable, and the most generally read : but the truth is, that 
the whole, in whatever author read, presents to the view little to oc- 
cupy the philosophical reader of history. We have the intrigues of 
ministers and courtiers at home and abroad ; a scene displayed lively 



THE REGENT, DUKE OF ORLEANS. 471 

and striking;, and even necessary to the comprehension of the history 
of Europe at that time. But we have no alterations in the constitu- 
tion of France, and, indeed, Uttle concern expressed on the subject. 
Even in those instances which are fitted to convey instruction to a 
statesman, the historians may be said to desert us : they write me- 
moirs ; they please and entertain us ; but are either unable or unwil- 
ling to do more ; and they enter into no minuteness of explanation, or 
criticism, on subjects that to posterity must surely appear of far more 
importance than those which they discuss. 

Our own Charles the Second is made to revive in our memory in 
the person of the regent, the Duke of Orleans, and Clarendon in the 
virtuous and faithful St. Simon ; but the regent is more outrageously 
debauched than Charles, and St. Simon, brought up in an arbitrary 
court, cannot have the views and feelings of Clarendon. 

It may be observed, however, that the ill success of St. Simon, in 
his very laudable efforts to reform his master, is well fitted, in a 
moral point of view, to offer edifying lessons, if any were wanting, of 
the danger of self-indulgence, the fascination of bad habits, and, 
whatever we may think of the celebrated doctrines of free-will and 
necessity, of the impossibility which every man ayUI find of altering 
his character at his pleasure ; that is, the absurdity, in the first place, 
of indulging himself in courses of folly and vice, and of then suppos- 
ing, that, whenever he thinks proper, he may begin to be virtuous 
and wise. 

Very different was the fate of the regent. Favored by nature with 
superior gifts of fancy and of understanding, with no malignity in his 
disposition, and well calculated to receive the love and approbation 
of mankind, it was in vain that he often resolved to make some 
reasonable efforts to deserve both, — to exercise some self-control, — 
in a word, to be virtuous. He was bound doAvn to the earth by the 
chains of his long established associations, — that is, in common lan- 
guage, by his bad habits. Dubois and his mistresses always prevail- 
ed over his better reason ; and the kind and honorable counsels of St. 
Simon were sounds that were no sooner heard than they were swept 
away from the sense, or rather were never properly heard at all, amid 
the unholy revelry of his impieties and abommations. He died im- 
maturely, of an apoplectic fit ; for at last he could not exercise self- 
control sufficient even to take proper steps for the security of his 
own life, and his favorite medical attendant, Chirac, remonstrated 
with him, on this occasion, as vainly as had done before his virtuous 
counsellor, St. Simon. 

" The most amiable of men in society," says one of the historians ; 
" full of genius, talents, courage, and humanity, but the worst of 
princes ; that is, the most unfit to govern." This is, however, too 
favorable a portrait of the regent ; one more minute and exact is 
given by Lacre telle, and that with great force and beauty of color- 
in ir. 



472 LECTURE XXVII. 

This is the prince to -whom Pope alludes, — 

"A godless regent tremble at a star." 

lie ■^•as one of those licentious men who, as sometimes happens, be- 
lieve nothing but what no one else believes, — for instance, astrology 
and magic ; and St. Simon mentions a recital given him by the re- 
gent, of some images sIioaati him in a mirror descriptive of future 
events, which I cannot but confess are quite inexplicable. St. Simon 
had nothing to say, but to request him not to have any more com- 
munication with the powers of darkness. 

On the subject of the Parliaments you must consult Duclos. It is 
an important subject, but one that, if you endeavour regularly to 
stiidy it, you will find intolerably tedious, and at last but unsatisfactory. 
This resistance of the Parliaments at last grew to be formidable to 
the monarch, and at length ended in the late tremendous Revolution. 
The word Parliament must, therefore, be a most interesting word, 
whenever we can observe it in the memoirs or histories of France. 

But the student, Avhile adverting to the history of France, will at 
length be conducted to the financial schemes of the celebrated John 
Law ; and the appearance which this speculator and his projects make 
is well calculated to awaken our curiosity. Some of the particulars 
mentioned are of a ludicrous, others of a grave nature ; but they all 
indicate, and even if they were, some of them, exaggerated, the very 
existence of them, as anecdotes belonging to the times, would still 
indicate, a state of the public mind and of the country very highly 
deserving of our attention. I will mention some of them. 

Law, from an obscure individual and a foreigner, had become the 
first man of consequence in such a kingdom as France. A'^oltaire 
says, that he saw him going through the gallery of the Palais Royal, 
followed by the first clergy and nobility of France, Avho were paying 
their court to him, — dukes and peers, marshals and bishops. Again, 
it was about Law that the English ambassador. Lord Stair, differed 
vrith his own court ; and the result was Lord Stair's recall. Of a 
less grave nature are anecdotes of the following kind : — that a 
woman of fashion contrived to have her carriage overturned, to take 
the chance of his running to her assistance, and aflbrding her an op- 
portunity of thus becoming acquainted with him ; — that another 
lady, finding all regular expedients vain, went with her chariot and 
servants, and set up a cry of fire near the house where he was din- 
ing. Again, such was the ferment and such the fury of speculation 
excited in Paris, that a poor man who had a humi>back made a liveli- 
hood by standing in the place where the bargains were made, and 
converting his infirmity into a sort of writing-desk. Anecdotes hke 
these may be thought only entertaining ; but in another stage of 
Law's financial system, three men were, in the confusion and pres- 
sure of the crowd, actually killed. 



LAW. 473 

Soon after the whole scheme had fallen Into rnin, it happened that 
a conflagration had destroyed half the town of Renncs, and tliat I\Iar- 
scillcs and part of Provence were visited hy the plai^ue. When the 
bishops of the different dioceses of Fi-ance were exhorted by a circu- 
lar letter from the ref!;ent to make efforts for the assistance of the 
sufferers, the liishop of Castres re})lied, — " that all the eflbrts he 
could make had only produced one hundred pistoles in money, and 
five thousand livrcs in paper ; that the inundation of this last sort of 
currency had done more mischief in his district than all the flames 
could have done in Bretagne ; that it was of no conseijuence that the 
houses were not reduced to ashes, if there remained nothing of all that 
was necessary to their existence but what was fit only to be thrown 
into the hrc. ^Vhat revolution," continues the bishop, " has not been 
j)roduced in six months by this paper money, in fortunes that ap- 
peared the best established ! It is impossible to comprehend without 
seeing, or to see without the most Uvely sorrow, the eftects that have 
taken place. There is an end with us to all commerce and labor, and 
confidence and industry ; even friendship and charity arc no more. 
These are not exaggerations," &c., &c. 

Particulars like these are surely curious, when they appear on the 
fiice of history as the result of the philosophic speculations of an in- 
dividual like Law, — one Avho had left his own country in search of a 
better, and was then brought forward to attempt his experiments in 
one of the first kingdoms in Europe. But all who hear me must be 
very conscious that finances, and paper money, and stockjobbing are 
sounds not unknown to ourselves ; and it is very possible, that, if one 
of the piu'poscs of history be instruction, these transactions may afford 
us some lessons not without their importance. We may consider our- 
selves, as a nation, very intelligent and experienced, but it must be 
noted that the regent who adopted the schemes of Law was a man of 
very brilliant talents. Law was, certainly, a person of no ordinary 
cast ; and it does not necessarily follow, from the failure of his 
schemes, that he meant originally to deceive. The French people 
are inferior to none in (juickncss and sagacity ; yet was there pro- 
duced, on this occasion, in France, what ISmith declares to be " the 
most extravagant project, both of banking and stockjobbing, that per- 
haps the world ever saw" ; and it is certain that the most serious and 
extensive confusion and distress were the consequence. 

Having made these observations with a hope of recommending 
these transactions to your attention, I now proceed to consider what 
means can be found for gratifying any curiosity which you may hap- 
pen to entertain on the subject. 

I am sorry to be obliged to confess to you some disappointments . 
Avith respect to this point. I have not found it possible to coniju'e- 
hend what was the exact theory of Law, in his banking and Missis- 
sippi schemes, from any of the historical writers of France. This 
00 NN* 



474 LECTnu: XXMl. 

projector and liis projects are both mentioned by A'oUaire, >v]io lived 
at tlie time ; but he gives no detail, and attempts no pliilosophic 
anah-sis, either of the svstem or its success. If we turn to the ^le- 
moii"S of St. Simon, a contemporarv also, he gives no assistance what- 
ever. Dnclos, in like manner, aft'ords no proper intonnatiou ; nor 
does even Lacrotelle, though he has a chapter dedicated to the sulv 
jeer ; nv>r do the writei-s of the French Kncyclop;\\iia. Adam Siuith, 
mifortunately, gives no account of it, because, sa^-s he, '• the dift'orent 
operations of this scheme are explained so fuUv, so clearly, and with 
so much order and distinctness, by Mr. Du Yerney, in his Examina- 
tion of the Political Retlections upon Commerce Jind Finances of 
Mr. Putot," — a work which I have never been able to procure. 

But we have another treatise, hi our own language, on political 
economy, wliich, though eclipsed by the more enlightened aiul pro- 
found work of Smith, is still a work in many respects desernng of at- 
tention ; it is particularly so on the present occasion ; I allude to the 
book of Steuart, — Steuart's Political Economy. Steuart gives a 
regular accoimt of the system of La^v ; and as the whole is concise, 
and yet, as I conceive, satistactory, I not only recommend it to yom* 
study, but it is upon this book, I confess, that I depend for turuishing 
you witli proper knowledge on the subject. 

Law was a man of a contrinng, speculating mind, one who had his 
fortune to make, and who, after in vain proposmg his tinancial 
schemes to his own coimtry, Scotland, and to other countries, at last 
settled in France, and succeeded h\ getting a bank established in 
Paris by the regent's authority, in May, ITIG. 

This bank seems to have been founded on the common principles, 
— circulating notes, and cash reserved to pay them, when occasion- 
ally presented. As he was a man of gi-eat adili-ess, with a tine per- 
son, and every attractive quality, both himself and his bank seem to 
have prospered most completely. No common success, however, 
could satisfy him : his ambition was unbounded. Unfortunately, too, 
he thought himself possessed of a secret for making a kingdom rich ; 
and his dreams of personal aggrandizement were probably, therefore, 
of the most unlimited extent and splendor. Ills secret was this : — 
he held, that, by increasing the circulating me^lium of a country, 
you increased its prosperity, and that therefore you were to supei-sede 
the use of the precious metals, and issue paper money to any requisite 
extent. 

Xow it happened at the time, that the finances of France were in 
a most deplorable state of embarrassment ; and it happened also, 
that the regent was a man of very quick talents, and alike fitted to 
comprehend and to be seduced by the reasonings and promises of 
any new and extraordinary system : Law and he were therefore made 
for each other. The finances were low, and Law had riches to be- 
stow ; this was all the reiient wanted. Law Avas an insiirnificant in- 



MISSISSIPPI SCHExME. 476 

dividual, and the regent could furnish him with all the authority of 
government ; this was all that Law wanted. Their operations were 
therefore soon begun. 

In the first place, to Law's private bank was united, in September, 
1717, a great commercial company, — the Mississippi Company, 
which was formed by subscriptions in the usual manner. And in the 
second place, on the first of January, 1719, Law's private bank, 
which had now flourished for three years, was converted into a royal 
bank. 

But it will naturally be asked. What were the foundations of this 
new royal bank, and what of this Mississippi Company ? What were 
the funds, and what was the security ? 

With respect to the new royal bank, its notes were always payable 
in money. The security must have been Law's personal security and 
the faith of the regent. And it was the great art and anxiety of this 
projector to make his bank-notes preferable to the coin of the country ; 
so that, though coin might be legally demanded from him, in point of 
fact it never loould be demanded from him. In this he greatly suc- 
ceeded for a considerable time. 

With respect to the Mississippi Company, they were to have an 
exclusive trade to Louisiana; they were to have the farming of the 
taxes, and other privileges, and therefore there appeared ample in- 
come for their dividends ; and the profits of their trade might be con- 
sidered as indefinite. 

It was settled, that the shares of the company could be purchased 
only by bank-paper, not by coin. The more, therefore, the shares 
were wanted, the more were the bank-notes called for to purchase 
them. Law and the regent had the fabrication of both, — of the 
shares and of the bank-notes. Shares, therefore, were created, and 
notes were issued, to answer the demand of the public. 

Every man seems to have supposed that the profits of Law's com- 
pany were to be indefinite ; all eyes were fixed, it must be supposed, 
upon Louisiana, and the revenue to be derived from farming the taxes 
and other privileges, resulting from his connection with the regent. It 
seems scarcely credible, but the fact was, that such was the rage for 
buying and selling shares, and for gambling in these concerns, that 
the counting and recounting of hard money would have been a process 
too tedious and slow ; and even this circumstance gave a preference 
to the paper money, — to the bank-notes. The hopes and fears of 
the individuals concerned, and the various modes of managing the 
company's shares and the notes of the bank by Law, gave occasion 
to all that stockjobbing, and those strange occurrences, some of which 
I have alluded to, and which have been transmitted to us even in the 
records of history. 

The system flourished while the public thought of nothing but of 
procuring the bank-notes with which to buy the shares. While this 



476 LECTURE XXVII. 

was the case, Law could answer occasional demands on his bank in 
gold and silver, and the shares of the company kept continually 
rising. 

Such was the state of tilings through the whole of the year 1719, 
till the end of November. But in the course of the preceding month 
of August, Law had promised a very large dividend on the shares of 
the Mississippi Company ; he then increased the number of shares to 
an excessive degree. He also issued the bank-notes profusely ; and 
continued to do so, till, before the end of May in the next year, 1720, 
he had, in fact, increased this issue to a most preposterous extent. 

For some time it had been suspected by many, that the profits of 
the company could not be such as the holders of the shares had ex- 
pected ; that, therefore, there was no real foundation for the edifice 
that had been erected : the circulation, too, was overloaded by the 
paper issue. Early, therefore, in the year 1720, the whole system 
evidently tottered. From the first, the Parliament of Paris had con- 
stantly resisted Law, and all his schemes and operations. For some 
time it had been necessary to make use of the assistance of govern- 
ment forcibly to support his projects ; and at last a false step that was 
made on the 21st of May, 1720, produced a run upon the bank, and, 
as he could not find gold and silver to pay his bank-notes, the whole 
system fell at once into disgrace and ruin. 

It may be said, therefore, to have flourished from January, 1719, 
to the month of December ; during that month, and the first months 
of 1720, to have declined ; and to have expired at the end of May, 
1720. 

Such is the general description that may be offered of these trans- 
actions. 

We may now, perhaps, enter a little into some particulars. 
Some questions occur. What could be the design of the regent, a 
very able man, in adopting this scheme ? What were his ends ? 
What did he suppose his means ? 

To these questions, the answer, according to Steuart, seems to be 
this : — The state was indebted two thousand millions of livres capi- 
tal, at an interest of four per cent. His wish, therefore, was, to take 
advantage of the disposition the pubhc were in to buy the shares of 
Law's trading company ; to transfer the debts of the state from him- 
self (the regent) to that company ; to become Jdmself a debtor to 
Law's company, and not to the public ; to pay the company a smaller 
interest than he did the public creditors, and by this difference to re- 
lieve the state. 

But the operation by which all this was to be effected was sadly 
circuitous ; so it will appear to you, and scarcely intelligible. It was 
this : — The regent was, in the fii'st place, to coin bank-notes at his 
royal bank, and with these was to buy the shares of the company ; in 
this manner to keep up the price of those shares : the company were 



MISSISSIPPI SCHEME. 477 

then to lend him the bank-notes they had thus received, at a low in- 
terest ; with these bank-notes he was to pay off the state creditors. 
After this process, he remained, it is true, with the shares in his 
hand ; but these shares he was to sell to the pubUc, and get rid of 
them : from the public he was to receive bank-notes once more, and, 
as these were the notes of his own bank, these he was to burn. And 
the result of the whole would then have been, that the pubUc cred- 
itor would have stood with one of the company's shares in his hand, 
instead of one of his former claims on the state ; and would have 
been left to find his interest, no longer from the regent, but from the 
dividends of the company. The regent, .or the state, would in the 
mean time have remained debtoi'S to the bank for the notes which the 
bank had lent, but would have had less interest to pay than before, — 
to say nothing of the gain which might have been made by a lucky 
sale of the shares ; and these were the advantages which the regent, 
it is probable, expected. 

The shares were therefore raised, in round numbers, during the 
early parts of the year 1719, from two hundred thousand to six hun- 
dred and twenty-four thousand. The bank-notes were coined during 
the whole of the year 1719, and more particularly during the earher 
parts of 1720, till they mounted up from fifty-nine millions to nearly 
tAvo thousand seven hundred millions of livres ; and when the whole 
system failed, at the end of May, the regent was found holding four 
hundred thousand of the six hundred thousand Mississippi shares, and 
the pubhc were in possession of (that is, there had been paid away) 
twenty-two hundred millions of the twenty-six hundred millions of 
bank-notes. 

The whole scheme, therefore, failed ; for the regent was answerable 
for these twenty-two hundred millions of bank-notes that were out, 
just as he had been before for the billets or debts of the state ; and 
he had four hundred thousand shares in liis hands, which he had not 
been able to dispose of. He could not get a sufficient number of the 
bank-notes back ; he could not transfer the pubhc debt from himself 
to the company, as he had hoped to do. In the event, therefore, 
after the run on the bank, and in the course of the remainder of the 
year 1720, he gave up the Avhole scheme ; settled his accounts with 
the company by burning their shares, or their debt to him, and anni- 
hilating part of his own debt to them ; and he returned to the old 
system of providing funds for paying the interest of the bank-bills out- 
standing, which were no longer to be negotiable, and to be destroyed 
at the end of the year. The result of the whole arrangement was, 
that he had to pay fifty-three millions for interest on the national 
debts, instead of eighty millions per annum, as he had before done ; so 
that a certain advantage was gained ; but himself and his adminis- 
tration were covered with disgrace, and his great agent and adviser, 
Law, narroAvly escaped with his life. 



4T8 LECTURE XXVII. 

Now, though these were the facts, and though such were the in- 
tentions of the regent and the meaning of the scheme, it does not 
follow that the regent, as has been sometimes thought, or even Law 
himself, meant to defraud the public. The regent must have con- 
ceived that he had furnished the company with a large revenue : first, 
by the interest which he was to pay them for their loan of bank-notes ; 
secondly, by the exclusive advantages of trade, and, thirdly, by 
the advantages of farming the taxes, which he had allowed them. In 
this manner they appeared furnished with an income perfectly ade- 
quate to discharge the dividends on their shares. He and Law might 
both have persuaded themselves, that, by the paper system which 
they had introduced, they had so increased the wealth of the state, 
that the interest of money would and ought to fall, — and that he, 
therefore, as a debtor to the public, might, without injustice to the 
pubhc, pay less interest than before. The only question is, whether 
improper arts and dishonest practices were used to raise the value of 
the shares, for on their sale all depended. 

There is one fact extremely suspicious. Li the middle of the year 
1719, the year of the system, the company promised a dividend far 
disproportioned to any rational expectations that could be formed of 
their means. Why they did so has never been properly explained ; 
and the company must be left with the imputation of, at least, most 
unpardonable delusion, if not of direct dishonesty. It was at this 
moment, it may be remarked, that the financial scheme we have men- 
tioned from Steuart appears to have been brought into action. In 
August, the company obtained the general farming of the taxes from 
the regent ; and whUe they promised this extraordinary dividend on 
their shares, they agreed to lend the regent one thousand six hun- 
dred milhons at three per cent. Three hundred thousand shares were 
created in the next two months of September and October ; and in 
December, 1719, and the first five months of 1720, two thousand mil- 
lions of bank-notes were created ; but in the last of these five months, 
in May, the bank stopped. All these facts connected seem to be best 
accounted for by the explanation of Steuart. The dividend was prom- 
ised, which raised the value of the shares ; a large number of shares 
were created to be purchased ; and again, a large number of bank- 
notes were struck off and paid away to the pubhc creditor, who was 
thus furnished with the means of buying the shares. All this runs 
smooth ; but the question is, upon what grounds this large dividend 
was promised, — a question, it is to be feared, which neither Law 
nor the regent could have properly answered. 

Lastly, with respect to the failure of the system. Steuart thinks 
that this failure was owing to the order given on May the 21st, that 
the bank-bill should go for only half its numerical value. He con- 
siders the credit of the bank as good, all through the months of Janu- 
ary, 1720, February, &c., down to May. " The French nation," he 



MISSISSIPPI SCHEME. 479 

says, " had been accustomed to diminutions in the value of the coin ; 
bj these they neither were nor could have been alarmed ; indeed, 
such depreciations of the coin had been always urged by Law and 
the adlierents to his system, as arguments to show the superiority of 
paper. When, however, it was publicly declared that the paper 
money should be subject to diminutions too, contrary to the original 
terms of the bill, and the engagement with the public, — and when 
it was thus seen that the paper, which had no value in itself, could 
not even boast of the value to be derived from good faith, that is, was 
in fact left mthout any value at all, the consequence was sure to be 
what immediately took place, that the public would rush forward to 
get for it any value that could be found in silver or gold." 

All this must, indeed, be allowed. The failure of the system was 
an inevitable consequence of such an edict as that of May. The 
question, however, that remains behind is, Wbat could tempt or force 
the regent and Law to issue such an edict ? This must, I think, be 
accounted for, not by saying with Steuart, that it was a mere blunder, 
for it was an impossible blunder ; but by saying that it was an expe- 
dient which they had recourse to (a vain expedient, no doubt), for 
enabling their bank to struggle through the difficulties which are al- 
ways the consequence of an over-issue of paper- 
Law certainly had an idea that paper was fitter than the precious 
metals to become the money of a state ; and he had even thought 
that money, that is, in this instance, that paper, was wealth to a 
country, in the proper sense of the word wealth, — that is, Avas in- 
dustry, trade, production, prosperity, in every meaning of these 
terms, because he thought it caused them. With these ideas he 
might have filled the imagination, if not betrayed the understanding, 
of the regent ; and both might have thought, that, in a country like 
France, a proper exercise of the authority of the state would carry 
them through all difficulties, till, at length, all the common prejudices 
on this subject of money being removed, the new medium might have 
its full circulation and influence, and the system be left, without any 
further interference of government, to stand on its own merits. The 
paper was therefore issued without fear, to an enormous extent. 

But, in the mean time, the real nature of things could not be alter- 
ed. It was not possible that the shares of the company should ad- 
vance so high, and the public not begin to perceive that they had 
advanced beyond their value ; it was not possible that tlic paper 
money should be so increased in quantity, and the numerical prices 
of things not increase also, and that foreigners should not therefore 
bring their goods, receive for them paper, turn the paper into cash, 
and then carry the cash out of the kingdom ; it was not possible that 
the disappearance of the coin should not create alarm, notwithstand- 
ing the edicts of the regent, and the letters and reasonings of Law ; 
it was not possible that all annuitants should not find theii- stipulated 



480 LECTURE XXVII. 

incomes less valuable, as the medium they were paid in became less 
valuable, that is, was more multiplied ; it was not possible that the 
small part of every society, which may be called the sober reasoning 
part, should not be much struck with the sudden fortunes, the rest- 
less speculations, the extravagant enthusiasm, the violent agitation, 
that everywhere prevailed, — that they should not themselves doubt, 
and at last teach others to doubt, of the solidity of a system unphilo- 
sophic in itself, and wliich, after all, had to depend on the profits of 
a commercial company and the good faith of the regent. It was im- 
possible, on these and other accounts, that gold and silver money 
should not at length be preferred to paper, of whatever promise or 
description ; and the whole merit, and meaning, and success, of Law's 
system depended upon a contrary supposition, — the preference of 
the bank-paper to the precious metals. These are all consequences 
that were, and must ever remain, inevitable, when an excess of paper 
money has been, on whatever accomit, introduced into the circulation 
of a country ; and the only real grounds of astonishment are, how the 
system existed so long, and how Law could succeed, in the manner 
he did, in persuading the public of the value of the company's shares 
and the soUdity of the bank-notes. 

On the whole, the failure of the scheme seems to have been owing 
to two great causes : first, a change of the public opinion with regard 
to the probable success of the mercantile project ; and, secondly, to 
the over-issue of paper. While the demand for shares continued, the 
bank-notes were thus employed and absorbed, and though there might 
be a general excess of circulation visible in all the proper tests of an 
excess, still there might be no positive distinction made by the French 
people between notes and specie. But the moment the demand for 
shares ceased, the demand for notes ceased with it ; and the distinc- 
tion between the notes and specie immediately began to take place. 
The famous edict of May, which had been occasioned by circumstances 
like these, only brought on a crisis which was from the first, sooner 
or later, inevitable, and was sure to be, when it did take place, totally 
ungovernable. 

This system has always been looked upon as a system of mere 
fraud, and Law as a mere projector and impostor. It has always 
been thought that the short account of the whole is, that he deceived 
the French nation, and that the only instruction to be derived from 
these transactions is, the disposition of the public to the folly and 
guilt of gambling and stockjobbing, the caution with which govern- 
ments should listen to projectors, the hesitation with which the 
public or individuals should embark in schemes of wide extent and 
rapid profit. 

Without meaning to controvert positions like these, the undeniable 
maxims of experience and good sense, it may be added, I conceive, 
that these transactions afford other lessons, not less valuable, though 



SOUTH-SEA BUBBLE. 481 

not so obvious, — I mean the circumspection witli which the expedi- 
ent of paper money should be used, — the caution with which govern- 
ments should Hsten to those whose systems proceed upon any other 
supposition, with respect to their paper issues, than that of their being 
freely and continually checked by the convertibility of the paper into 
the precious metals, — the mistake which the pubhc commit when 
they lend themselves to any systems of credit which require the 
shghtest assistance fi"om authority, which connect, in the way of mu- 
tual assistance, the great commercial and banking concerns of indi- 
viduals with the government of a country and the finances of a state, 
— the probability there is that men will outstep the proper bounds 
even of justice and honesty, much more of general prudence, when 
they can make, as they suppose, money at pleasure. It is lessons of 
this sort that ought also to be drawn from these transactions, because 
they are lessons of still greater importance to commercial nations, and 
because all such communities are far more likely to be ignorant 
and transgress in these points than in speculations and stockjobbing, 
not to say that the consequences are far more extensively and irre- 
tiievably ruinous. 

The infatuation that was exhibited through the whole of the trans- 
actions in which Law was concerned was by no means confined to 
the French nation. By a coincidence singular enough, the year 1720 
was marked in our own history by the folly of what was called the 
South-Sea Bubble. This subject I conceive also to be deserving of 
your consideration. I will make a few remarks, and leave it to your 
examination. 

There is an account of it, as there is of the French Mississippi 
Scheme, in Anderson's History of Commerce ; but you will better 
understand it by a reference to Coxe's History of Sir Robert Walpole. 
You may read his narrative and explanation in two chapters of the 
first volume, and then the letters from Mr. Thomas Brodrick in his 
second volume. The observations of Steuart, in his Political Economy, 
must by all means be referred to, and then Cobbett's Parliamentary 
History will do more than supply the rest. There are a few obser- 
vations in Sinclair's History of the Revenue which should be read. 

The South-Sea Company owed its origin to Harley. He incorpo- 
rated the national creditors into a company ; the debts due to them 
by the state became their stock, about ten millions ; and he appro- 
priated certain duties to the pa^onent of their interest. He allured 
them into this arrangement by giving them an exclusive trade to the 
South Sea or the coast of Spanish America. 

The South-Sea Bubble was but a preposterous extension, some 
years afterwards, and a sort of caricature, of the scheme and bargain 
now described. The debts of the nation were in the year 1719 at a 
greater than the current interest of the time ; some of the debts were 
redeemable, that is, might be discharged by paying the principal ; 
61 



482 LECTURE XXVII. 

others were irredeemable, or could not be paid oflf without the consent 
of the creditors. The scheme, therefore, of the ministers and the 
company was this — (I will express myself not in technical, but in the 
most popular terms I can find) : — That the company should have an 
exclusive trade to the South Sea, and therefore be enabled to get rich, 
and to pay large dividends on their shai'es ; that the national creditor 
should be thus induced to change his security, give up his claim on 
the pubhc, and with it buy one of the company's shares ; the com- 
pany were to pay a certain interest on their stock, besides the occa- 
sional profits on their shares, and the nation was to pay the company 
a certain sum to enable them to pay this interest and all expenses. 

Of this arrangement the advantages to the nation were to be, that 
the whole debt, redeemable and irredeemable, was to be put into a 
new state, a redeemable state, — that is, a state in which it might be 
at length paid oft'; and in the mean time, the interest paid was to be 
at a more easy rate than the original bargain admitted of. Another 
advantage was to be this : the nation was to receive from the South- 
Sea Company a douceur for allowing them to make this new bargain ; 
more than seven millions, for instance, were to be received. 

The original national creditor was to have his advantage in becom- 
ing a proprietor of the South-Sea stock, and in sharing all the profits 
which were to result from the exclusive trade of the company, the 
management of their concerns, &c. 

It is more difficult to understand what was in the mean time to 
be the advantage of the company itself. It was of this nature : — 
Government was to pay them five per cent, for seven years, at a time 
when money was not worth so much, and when, therefore, the com- 
pany could not be under the necessity of paying so much to their own 
creditors, — the difierence would be so much positive gain ; an allow- 
ance was to be made them for the management of the new stock 
which, in consequence of the bargain, was now to be added to their 
old original stock ; and, finally, great profits were expected to arise 
from their exclusive trade. Such were to be the advantages of the 
company. But it must be observed that the stock of the company 
was itself expected to rise ; and it did rise, so high, for instance, as 
to three hundred pounds per cent. ; that is, a person was to give 
the company three hundred pounds money before he could be rated 
a proprietor of one hundred pounds in their books, — that is, a hold- 
er of one hundred pounds stock. A national creditor, therefore, 
brought his claim for three hundred pounds on the nation to the com- 
pany, and was in return constituted the owner of only one hundred 
pounds of their stock, — that is, the company accounted with him on 
the supposition of owing him only one hundred pounds ; but in the 
mean time they accounted with the nation as having paid oflf, on the 
part of the nation, a debt to their creditors of three hundred pounds : 
the difference was to be their profit, a difference that depended on the 
rate at which the South-Sea stock sold. 



SOUTH-SEA BUBBLE. 483 

My liearors will now comprehend the manner In which the national 
creditor might give, in the progress of those transactions, not only 
his three hmidred pounds national debt for one hundred pounds 
South-Sea stock, but his one thousand pounds national debt for one 
hundred pounds stock, if the stock ever rose, as in reality it did, to 
one thousand pounds per cent, ; and they will also sec, if the stock 
did not afterwards pay him the interest which his one thousand poimds 
before had done, how he might be more or less injured ; and if the 
company's stock, for which he had paid his one thousand pounds, be- 
came worth little or nothing, how he might be entirely ruined, losing 
his national stock, and getting notliing in return. You will now also 
see Avhat buying and selling might ensue, while the stock was vai\ving, 
and how all the later holders, when the stock began to fall, would be 
the sufferers ; and again, that, if the original holders of the South- 
Sea stock (the directors and others) sold out stock while it was 
rising, they, and afterwards even those they sold to, might become 
rich ; and if they made use of any arts or deception to raise the 
stock, for the purpose of selling it, such as promising a great dividend, 
&c., &c., they then cheated those to whom they sold their stock. 

The next point to be considered is this : the manner in which the 
bargain was made with the company by the nation, and the terms 
agreed upon. The ministers originally intended to give the South- 
Sea Company a good bargain ; it had even been settled that particular 
persons were to be considered as holders of stock beforehand. The 
stock, it was foreseen, would soon rise, and the holders were to re- 
ceive the difference on the sale of it. If the stock did not rise, the 
whole was to be considered as a nullity ; and in this manner distin- 
guished personages in the state were engaged to forward the scheme 
from the prospect of this probable advantage. This Avas the first 
piece of iniquity, and indeed the most striking, that was afterwards 
proved. 

But, unfortunately, it happened, that, when the minister brought 
forward the plan in the House of Commons, having made his speech 
and been duly seconded, in the midst of a long pause, which he seems 
very unskilfully to have suffered to take place, Mr. Brodrick rose, 
and most unexpectedly proposed that the nation should offer the 
scheme to the Bank of England, as well as to the South-Sea Company, 
and have the benefit of the competition. The minister stood pale and 
puzzled, and it was found in vain to resist so equitable a proposition. 
The result was, that the two companies, the Bank and the South-Sea, 
proceeded to bid against each other, and the South-Sea Company at 
last succeeded, by undertaking the scheme on terms most prepos- 
terously disadvantageous to themselves, — disadvantageous to a de- 
gree that could not but cause the ruin of those who were ultimately 
to abide by them. 

The present is a very remarkable instance of the manner in which 



484 LECTURE XXYII. 

a competition may be sometimes carried to extremes. Sir Robert 
Walpole, who seems almost the only man left in possession of his un- 
derstanding on this occasion, in vain remonstrated against the pro- 
ject, and declared the whole to be founded on mistake and delusion. 
Such proved to be the fact. The profits of the South-Sea trade 
never enabled the directors to pay such profits on the shares, that is, 
such dividends, as were expected. The value of the shares at last 
fell almost to nothing. 

But, in the mean time, the first and most obvious lesson that is af- 
forded by these transactions is, no doubt, the excess to which the 
passions of avarice and hope may be carried, the extraordinary ef- 
fects of sympathy on large bodies of mankind, the inaccessible blind- 
ness in which the understanding may be left, when exposed to such 
powerful principles in our nature as these undoubtedly are. The 
whole scheme failed, because there neither was nor could be any 
trade to the South Sea, or to any sea, sufiicient to pay adequate divi- 
dends on a stock purchased so dearly. 

Among reasoners of a certain description. Swift and Mandeville, 
for instance, it is a very favorite fancy to throw mankind into two 
grand divisions, the knaves and the fools, on the right and on the 
left, — themselves, no doubt, standing at a due distance in the 
middle. On this particular occasion. Sir Robert Walpole and a few 
others might have been not a little justified in some sweeping arrange- 
ment of the kind ; and there are particulars, appearing even on the 
face of history, which may afibrd the most captivating entertainment 
to all such reasoners as I have mentioned, the scoffers and satirists 
of mankind, the insulters and deriders of our imperfect nature. 

In Anderson's History of Commerce, and in Cobbett's Parliamen- 
tary History, may be seen a long list of schemes which were offered 
to the public by different projectors, some of them ridiculous enough, 
and forming altogether a striking specimen of the nature of the times. 
Look at them ; they will entertain, and ought to instruct you. I 
will mention one of them. A proposal, after many others, at last 
appeared " for carrying on an undertaking of great advantage, but 
nobody to know what it is." The scheme was for half a milhon, and 
every subscriber, upon first paying two guineas, as a deposit, was to 
have one hundred pounds per annum for every one hundred pounds 
subscribed. It was declared that in a month the particulars were to 
be laid open, and the remainder of the subscription money was then 
to be paid in. A more complete specimen of impudence than this 
can scarcely be conceived. It may be necessary to mention, that 
the projector actually received, in one forenoon, deposits for one 
thousand shares, — that is, he received two thousand guineas ; but it 
cannot be necessary to add, that in the afternoon he moved off, and 
neither the guineas nor the projector were ever heard of more. It 
was probably on tliis occasion that one of those deriders whom I have 



SOUTH-SEA BUBBLE. 485 

just alluded to amused himself with putting out an advertisement in 
one of the weekly prints (two or three sheets of the newspaper were 
then generally dedicated to the advertising of these projects), and 
the advertisement was to apprise the public that " at a certain place, 
on Tuesday next, books will be opened for a subscription of two mil- 
Hons, for the invention of melting down sawdust and chips, and cast- 
ing them into clean deal boards without cracks or knots." — Ander- 
son, III. 103. 

There was one difference between the South-Sea Scheme and the 
INIississippi Scheme in France, which cannot but have been already 
observed by my hearers. In England there was no national bank 
connected with the project; the Bank of England stood aloof; there 
was no attempt to banish the precious metals from the currency of 
the country ; the wealth of many individuals was left to rest, if they 
chose it, on paper and delusion, but it was not intended to enrich the 
country by the mere substitution of paper for gold and silver : an im- 
portant difference, this, which resolves the whole of our South-Sea 
Bubble into a mere specimen of folly or fraud on the one part, and 
ignorance or ridiculous gambling on the other. 

When it began to be seen that there neither were, as I have men- 
tioned, nor could be, any profits arising from the South-Sea trade, or 
arising from any other source, sufficient to justify the rise of the 
stock, or to enable the company to pay the dividends which they had 
promised, their stock fell rapidly, notwithstanding every effort that 
could be made in its support ; and all the silly people who had awak- 
ed from their dreams had no alternative but to vent their rage on 
their deceivers, and to call aloud for vengeance on the boundless 
ambition and avarice, as they called it, not of themselves, but of the 
directors and others, their agents and accomplices, the rogues, the 
parricides, (I quote the words made use of in a variety of different 
petitions to Parliament,) the traitorous, perfidious, &c., &c., betray- 
ers, plunderers, robbers of their country, the monsters of pride and 
covetousness, the cannibals of 'Change Alley, who lick up the blood 
of the nation, &c., &c. 

Now these are complimentary terms very natural for those to use 
who find themselves ruined by their own credulity ; but as the law 
cannot well attempt to protect good people from the consequences of 
their own folly, it was not found possible, by any regular process of 
legal punishment, to pursue with due pains and penalties these nefa- 
rious contrivers of what, in the language of the committee of the 
House of Commons, was called " a train of the deepest villany and 
fraud that Hell" (that is, I suppose, the Stock Exchange) "ever 
contrived to ruin a nation." A scene, therefore, followed, not very 
creditable to a great and civilized nation. The houses of Pai-liament 
showed, no doubt, that they were not partners in these swindling 
transactions ; but they showed, at the same time, a great disregard 

00* 



486 LECTURE XXVII. 

to all the niceties that should be observed in the administration of 
penal justice. They made the directors bring in an account of their 
property and estates, talked over the different proportions of guilt 
that belonged to each individual, and then, in a loose and summary 
■way, fined them at their pleasure, dedicating almost the whole of the 
two milhons private property Avhich they possessed to the assistance 
of the sufferers. " Instead of the calm solemnity of a judicial in- 
quiry," says Mr. Gibbon, whose grandfather was a director, " the 
fortune and honor of three-and-thirty Englishmen were made the 
topic of hasty conversation, the sport of a lawless majority." 

As an obvious and general remark, it must be mentioned that these 
popular tempests of vindictive justice should always be most carefully 
watched and resisted by intelligent men. But I must also remark, 
that there seems, on this occasion, to have been no notice taken of 
the guilt of a particular description of persons, who might little 
suspect their own criminality, — I mean a part of the members of 
the House of Commons themselves, more particularly the gay, 
thoughtless sons of peers or opulent commoners, who had undertaken 
to be legislators before they had made themselves men of business ; 
who had given their votes, no doubt, for schemes of finance of the 
nature of which they probably knew nothing, and were contented to 
know nothing ; and who had failed in their clear and bounden duty, 
the duty of being the honest, the laborious, and, I must add, the well- 
informed protectors of the pubhc. The scheme would never have 
taken place, if the House of Commons had been properly intelligent, 
if it had been even intelligent enough to admit of being enlightened ; 
but it was not. Sir Robert Walpole reasoned in vain. 

I quit this subject by repeating briefly that Anderson's account is 
worth considering, but that a very good note by Steuart, in his Pohti- 
cal Economy, must by no means be omitted. The narrative of Coxe, 
in his first volume, which is collected from every different source of 
information, will be the most intelligible and complete exhibition of 
the whole to the general reader ; but the letters of Mr. Brodrick 
must be read, as containing the sentiments of a person living at the 
time, a member of the House, and making his observations on all that 
was passing within and without doors. 

The Parliamentary History of Cobbett is very full on this occasion ; 
all the regular documents are preserved and given ; but there is so 
much technical language used, that they will often be tedious, and at 
the same time very difficult to comprehend. They must be read in 
conjunction with Steuart and Coxe, and, indeed, there is a good nar- 
rative furnished along with these debates, borrowed from Tindal ; but 
the great misfortune is, that the speeches of Sir Robert Walpole are 
not come down to us, or at least not properly given. The most in- 
structive portion of the whole would have been found in the speeches 
and reasonings that took place whilst the scheme was m agitation, — 



SOUTH-SEA BUBBLE. 487 

Tehile Sir Robert was remonstrating, for instance, against the accept- 
ance of the proposals of the South-Sea Company ; a general descrip- 
tion only can be found of what was probably a most reasonable speech, 
highly creditable to him as a statesman. The introductory speech of 
the Chancellor of the Exchequer would have been also very instruc- 
tive ; and, again, the debates that ensued when the bubble burst, and 
the House was proceeding to punish the directors, and was endeavour- 
ing to rescue the nation from its calamities. But on these most im- 
portant occasions the debates are all either more or less deficient, and 
the assistance that is afforded by the private letters produced by Coxa 
is quite trifling. 

The first report of the proceedings of the South-Sea Company may 
be looked at. The result of the whole is contained in ten of the 
resolutions of the House of Commons, and will give some idea of the 
swindling practices that took place. The remaining documents soon 
become little more than an inquiry into the particular guilt of individ- 
uals, and to us, at this distance of time, lose their interest; but what 
minutes remain of the proceedings in the House are worthy of obser- 
vation. The last two thirds of Mr. Aislabie's second defence before 
the Lords contains a curious account of the whole affair, and, whether 
Mr. Aislabie was or was not as reasonable as he pretends, gives a 
very just description of at least the folhes of others. The manner in 
which the concerns of all parties were adjusted may be best under- 
stood from Anderson ; and, in the first place, from the report of 
the address of the House itself, drawn up by Sir Robert. 

Much loss must have been suffered by those who last entered into 
the scheme, and much dissatisfaction was expressed. All parties 
were made, very properly, to abide by the consequences of their folly. 
The seven millions, indeed, which the nation was to receive from the 
South-Sea Company were at length necessarily remitted, but the 
nation found its original engagements converted into new engage- 
ments of a more advantageous nature ; and though the scheme was 
in every respect wretchedly managed, some advantage was derived 
from it, and the public creditors no longer received an interest dis- 
proportioned to the interest at which money could at the time be 
borrowed. 



488 LECTURE XXVIII. 



LECTURE XXVIII. 

GEORGE THE SECOND. —PELHAM. — REBELLION OF 
1745, ETC. 

We left the English history at the close of the administration of 
Sir Robert Walpole ; the next era that I will propose to you is the 
interval between that event and the peace of 17G3. 

To this era we turn with some curiosity. We have heard much 
of the events by which it was distinguished, — much of the great 
statesmen and lawyers by whom it was adorned. The nation, in the 
mean time, as we may judge from the effect, must have made a great 
progress in its commerce, agriculture, manufactures, and literature, — 
in its general opulence and general intelligence. Of all these things 
we are somewhat eager to know the history. 

But on this occasion we meet with a severe disappointment. We 
find the history written only by Smollett ; and we learn, upon inquiry, 
that the Avork was drawn up as a Tory history (agreeably, however, 
to Smollett's principles), because a bookseller, in the exercise of his 
trade, had perceived that such a history would obtain a sale. Bel- 
sham's History is but short ; and, though a work of more merit than 
is generally allowed, not written in a manner, even in these earlier 
volumes, sufficiently calm and dignified. The Annual Registers do 
not begin till the year 1758 ; and the London Magazine and Gentle- 
man's INIagazine comprehend some of the materials of history rather 
than a history itself. Above all, we have no authentic debates. In 
four volumes is comprised every thing of this kind that can now be 
offered to our notice. Under the feigned names of the Roman senate 
and the senate of Lilhput, some of the speeches of those who took a 
part in the debates were published in the London and Gentleman's 
Magazines ; but at length even this imperfect and mutilated informa- 
tion was denied. The public were prevented from knowing the 
arguments and views of their statesmen, not only by order of the 
Lords, the hereditary protectors of the community, but by the Com- 
mons, the very representatives of the community ; and there is for 
some time, in the debates of both Houses, a total chasm and blank. 
After all that we have heard of the eloquence of Murray and of Pitt, 
nothing can be more grievous than our disappointment in this part of 
our general inquiries. 

I have already noticed to you the very strange ignorance of the 
real nature of tliis subject shown by the House of Commons on a for- 
mer occasion, and even by such a man as Pulteney, while leader of 
the opposition. It is now better understood. And as, on the one 



GEORGE THE SECOND. 489 

hand, every reasonable man will see that the houses of Parliament 
should always have the right of excluding strangers when they think 
fit, so, on the other, it is equally clear that this right should be exer- 
cised as seldom as possible, — by no means so often as men of violent 
and arbitrary dispositions would think desirable. You Avho hear me 
will, I trust, if any of you should ever sit in Parliament, be very 
careful how you interfere with the publicity of the debates, — in 
other words, how you presume to assassinate the talents of your 
country, stifle the free spirit of its constitution, and destroy the in- 
struction of after ages. 

On the whole, it will appear, from all the particulars I have men- 
tioned, that we have no very good means of appreciating what I may 
call the fair, open, regular politics of the country. We must judge, 
as well as we can, from the events that took place, the measures 
carried by the different administrations, the general characters of 
those that composed them. 

We are allowed a slight glance into another part of the general 
subject, — the intrigues and cabals of the times. The Diary of Dod- 
ington. Lord Melcombe, has been published. It is generally amus- 
ing, and sometimes important : amusing, because it gives some idea 
of the way in which public men of more talents than principle usually 
reason and act, and of the way, too, in which they are treated by 
ministers and those who want their services at the cheapest rate ; im- 
portant, because it gives some idea of Mr. Pelham, the Duke of 
Newcastle, and other distinguished men of the times, and, above all, 
because it affords the only insight we can as yet obtain into the edu- 
cation and manners of his present Majesty when young, as well as 
into the characters of those who were around him, his tutors and 
governors, his friend the Earl of Bute, Prince Fi-ederic his father, 
and the princess dowager. The public can seldom reach any knowl- 
edge of this peculiar kind. Those who are usually about a court are 
unfit to make any proper use of their advantages, and indeed they 
seldom try. The slightest particulars, therefore, are eagerly seized 
and meditated upon by every philosophic reader of history ; and this 
book of Dodington must by no means be neglected. 

With Dodington may be read a book that has been lately publish- 
ed by Lord Holland, — the Memoirs of Lord Waldegrave, from the 
year 1754 to 1758. The book is very deserving of perusal, as it af- 
fords us the observations of a very sensible man on the occurrences 
that passed before his eyes, wliile in the confidence of George the 
Second, and the governor of the late king. It somewhat disappoints 
the reader, for more might have been expected than is found on the 
subject of the young prince, the princess dowager, and Lord Bute, 
(though valuable hints are given,) and on the political principles 
of Pitt, Mr. Fox, and others ; but the book must be read, and will 
be read, as well as the preface and the letters of Mr. Fox (after- 
62 



490 LECTURE XXVIII. 

■wards Lord Holland), -with entertainment and instruction. Charac- 
ters are given, and well drawn ; the style is very easy, clear, and 
idiomatic, — the style of a polished man, rather than of a scholar, 
accustomed to the company of people of rank and talents. Tlie 
general conclusion from the whole is very unfavorable to all the 
statesmen concerned : that they contended rather for power than for 
the prevalence of any political principles ; that they constituted fac- 
tions in the state, rather than parties : great constitutional principles 
were, however, sometimes at issue, though apparently not felt and 
considered to be such at the time. Lord Waldegrave himself seems 
to have had no very enlarged or proper ideas of our constitution, — 
to have been a man with no political views himself, and attributing 
none to other people. I conclude my notice of this work by observ- 
ing, that a mistake may be made with regard to the princess dowa- 
ger. She was entitled to the affection and respect of the young 
prince, the future king, as his mother. The question is, whether she 
was or was not converting her maternal influence into a means of 
political power, and whether she was or was not ambitious to rule by 
the assistance of Lord Bute, and rule on Tory principles. 

But to return to the point of history at which we set out. — The 
labors of Mr. Coxe do not exactly close with the Life of Sir Robert 
Walpole. He has also published memoirs of Sir Robert's brother, 
the first Horace Walpole ; and it is to these we must have recourse 
when we first turn to the era which we are more immediately con- 
sidering. 

I will now proceed to advert to some of the more particular occur- 
rences of this interval from 1743 to 1763, in the order in which they 
appeared. 

In the first place, I have already mentioned, and must again men- 
tion, the intrigues that took place on the fall of Sir Robert. They 
are worth your consideration. A general notion of them may be 
formed from Coxe's Life of Sir Robert, — favorable to him, no doubt ; 
but the fact seems to be, that all the parties concerned in these trans- 
actions had their folhes and their faults, — the public, perhaps, the 
least so ; but even the pubhc was not without them, as will be seen 
when we are considering those of their statesmen. 

Pulteney, for instance, seems to have made, when in opposition, a 
very improper declaration that he would never take office. A pubhc 
man may certainly propose himself as a sort of inquisitor of all other 
public men ; but on one supposition, that he takes no favors from any 
administration : this is a necessary proviso. He then may occupy a 
very elevated situation, and deserve and obtain the applauses of his 
country ; for this is a sort of merit that is very great, and is intelligi- 
ble. But men of talents, as well as good sense and honesty, may 
even more materially contribute to the service of their country by 
going into office, and advancing its interests, foreign and domestic, 



PULTENEY. 491 

civil and religious, — by becoming such ministers as the latter (the 
men of honesty and good sense) may safely patronize. This is a 
merit of a still higher nature ; and for a virtuous and intelUgent states- 
man to exclude it from his view is, in fact, to abandon the govern- 
ment of a country to every presumptuous, self-interested man that 
will undertake it. Pvdteney, however, seems to have attempted to 
adhere, when power was within his reach, to the ill-judged declara- 
tions which he had made when in opposition ; and when it was his 
business to form an administration, he seems to have entertained the 
imreasonable expectation, that he could still keep his consequence 
without being seen in any one responsible situation or post, — not in 
opposition, — not in office, — not even as a neutral critic, — but 
merely as a commoner made into a peer, — placed calmly to survey 
the proceedings of the administration he had constructed, without any 
means of influencing their movements, — without any duty to dis- 
charge to the pubUc, — that is, in other words, without any right to 
receive their praises. 

What was the result ? He had scarcely finished his negotiations 
with the court when he found, too late, that he had attempted impos- 
sibilities. He was almost insulted with his insignificance, even by 
the Duke of Newcastle. He was so mortified as to have meditated a 
renewal of his opposition. This, indeed, would have crowned his 
mistakes ; and he is said, in the agonies of his shame and disgust, to 
have trampled the patent of his peerage under his feet. 

The most edifying part of these transactions is the view which Pul- 
teney had himself formed of his plans and situation. " If," says he, 
" avarice, ambition, or the desire of power had influenced me, Avhy 
did I not take (and no one can deny but I might have had) the 
greatest post in the kingdom ? But I contented myself with the 
honest pride of having subdued the great author of corruption ; re- 
tired with a peerage, which I had three times at difierent periods of 
my life refused ; and left the government to be conducted by those 
who had more inclination than I had to be concerned in it. I should 
have been happy, if I could have united an admimstration capable of 
carrying on the government with ability, economy, and honor." 

Public men are not to indulge themselves in dreams hke these : 
they are not to suppose that they subdue a bad minister, or a set of 
bad men, unless they do their best to form a better administration, — 
unless they hazard their own characters and embark their own labors 
in a new system : bad ministers and bad measures are not so readily 
cleared away and disposed of. Pulteney knew very Avell, no one 
could know better, the discordant materials of which the opposition 
had been composed ; and it was his business, as the great leader and 
soul of the whole, by disinterestedness, openness, and an adherence 
to the great constitutional points for which he had contended, to unite 
as many of them as possible, and to make no bargain with the court 



492 LECTURE XXVIII. 

that could leave the reasonable part of the public any cause of com- 
plaint. 

On all occasions like these, great difficulties must be experienced. 
The jealousies, suspicions, and rivalships by -which a party is secretly 
agitated, while openly united in opposition to a minister, break out 
when the victory is once accomplished. The leaders cannot possibly 
satisfy, or even silence, the preposterous expectations, more particu- 
larly of those who have httle real merit to boast. But Pulteney 
seems not even to have done what might have been expected. He 
left the court in possession of the important offices in the cabinet. 
The Duke of Newcastle was to be secretary of state ; Lord Ilardwicke 
remained chancellor ; Lord Wilmington was suffered to slide, as it 
was called, into the post of first lord of the treasury ; and the result 
of the whole was, that the alteration of measures, as well as of men, 
for which he had before appeared so anxious, never did, and, indeed, 
never could, take place ; for how were the measures to be altered but 
■ftdth the men ? 

Melancholy to his own personal feehngs were the consequences. 
Every term of reproach and indignation, all that could be suggested 
by the agreeable pleasantry of Sir Hanbury Williams and the more 
elevated effusions of the muse of Akenside, was levelled at his char- 
acter and fame ; and the hissings of the public everywhere pursued 
the peer, the new-made peer, who was now thought but the tool of a 
court, corrupted and corrupting, though so late the patriot who had 
animated his countrymen by his generous efforts against the baseness 
of corruption, and charmed the House of Commons by the livehness 
of his retorts and the vigor of his arguments. 

There can be no doubt that Pulteney was not so deserving of rep- 
robation as was supposed at the time, or long after. In this, and 
in all other cases, we are to take the most natural solution of the 
phenomena ; and in judging of the conduct of men in difficult and 
critical situations, it is quite idle to exclude the supposition of oc- 
casional folly and mistake. Pulteney seems himself to have medi- 
tated a defence, and to have afterwards devolved the task and point- 
ed out the proper materials to his friend. Dr. Douglas, the truly 
venerable Bishop of Salisbury. But, on his death. General Pulteney, 
for reasons that can scarcely have been sufficient, destroyed all his 
papers, as if the conduct of distinguished men were not, in fact, the 
property of the public, — their example, if good, — their warning, if 
criminal or mistaken ; finally, as if silence was not an indirect confes- 
sion of a bad cause. 

The fault of the court in these transactions seems to have been a 
want of generosity, and even of common gratitude, to their protector, 
— to Pulteney. The objects of the court were, to disunite the oppo- 
sition, to form an administration on the Whig basis, and to save Sir 
Robert Walpole from a public impeachment, if possible, — at all 



PULTENEY. 493 

events, to save his life. In the last two Pulteney was quite ready 
to agree with them. He was himself a Whig, and loved the consti- 
tution founded on Whig principles. He Avas not, he said, " a man of 
blood " ; and had always meant, by the destruction of the minister, 
" the destruction of his power, not of his person." But, alas for hu- 
man weakness ! he had an unfortunate wish for a peerage, a still more 
unfortunate dislike to office. These circumstances placed him suffi- 
ciently within the power of the court ; and as there was, therefore, 
no need of either duping or deceiving him, or of representing him as 
duped or deceived, why was the Duke of Newcastle to insult him ? 
What need for the king to break his word with him in the affair of 
Sir John Hynde Cotton ? 

All this was a species of conduct in the court, not only ungenerous, 
but, as is always the case, unwise as it was ungenerous. Courts 
seem on such occasions to justify the reproaches of their enemies, 
and to teach mankind that every negotiation with them is to be a 
mere contest of intrigue and trick, of baseness and cunning ; so that 
men of openness and honor are to suppose them unfit to be dealt 
with, and unsafe to be approached. Nothing can be more unfortu- 
nate for the country, and for the court itself, than that notions like 
these should ever appear to be countenanced by facts. 

The public, lastly, were not without their blame on this occasion. 
Their faults were their natural faults, — violence, precipitation, un- 
reasonableness. They overlooked, in the first place, the merits of 
Sir Robert ; considered not the difficulties of his situation ; that he 
had to support the Brunswick family on the throne ; that he had done 
so ; that he might not be without his faults, but that at least this was 
his merit, and one with which no other could be put in competition ; 
that, with Jacobites and Tories to oppose him, — many who would 
have dethroned the Hanover family, more who would have suffered 
it to be dethroned, — he was not merely left to depend on the intel- 
ligence and purity of his measures, but obliged to fight his battle by 
the natural influence of the posts and places which belong to our 
establishments, and which he was to distribute among the great fami- 
lies of the country, so as to throw a weight of influence in one scale, 
to be opposed to disaffection in the other. 

This is delicate ground on which I am now treading, — this ground 
of the influence of posts and places, and even of positive money, ac- 
cording to the custom of those times, offered and received. I am 
well aware of it. But the era of which I am speaking was one which 
cannot be brought into comparison with any other ; and, in this situa- 
tion of things, to suppose, as the public did, that Walpole was to 
answer with his life for what they supposed his malpractices, — to 
imagine that he was the great author of all ill, and that patriotism 
and purity waited only the signal of his fall to rise into splemlor, and 
to receive universal homage, — for the public to suppose all this was 

PP 



494 LECTURE xxvm. 

surely to be, as I have already intimated, violent, precipitate, and 
unreasonable ; in other words, was, according to their measure and 
opportunity, to have their follies and faults as well as their rulers. 

A further insight into these curious transactions, which, the more 
they could be known, the more edifying they would be, cannot now 
be obtained. We have the known facts, the debates, and the pages 
of Mr. Coxe, drawn up after consideration of such private papers as 
now exist. Mr. Walpole (Sir Robert's brother), it appears, destroy- 
ed all the papers of the minister. " As the enemies of Sir Robert 
Walpole seemed desirous," says Mr. Coxe, " to impute to him alone 
all the measures pursued during his continuance in office, apprehen- 
sions were justly entertained lest orders should be issued by the com- 
mittee of secrecy for seizing the papers, not only of the minister him- 
self, but even those of his brother Accordingly Mr. Walpole 

went down to Wolterton, and burned numerous papers, particularly a 
great part of the private correspondence between himself and his 
brother." It is to this Life of Mr. Walpole, afterwards Lord Walpole, 
by Coxe, that I must continually refer you, in conjunction with the 
common histories. 

Lord Carteret next appears on the stage, — a man of genius and 
ambition. He soon became a great favorite with the king ; and he 
had talents that could throw a splendor round any measures that he 
proposed or defended. 

You may begin with this twenty-fourth chapter of Coxe's Wal- 
pole ; and you Avill receive much entertainment and information on 
subjects that belong to this period : the divisions of the cabinet ; the 
relative abilities and political views of the leading men, particular- 
ly of Lord Carteret on the one side, and of the Pelhams on the 
other. 

On the whole, however, the scene displayed through these chap- 
ters is not very pleasing. The Pelhams overpowered Lord Carteret, 
who had the favor of the king ; but their system of politics turned out 
to be too nearly the same with his. At this period, the great point 
that could alone divide the opinions of patriotic and intelligent men 
was our system of Continental interference. George the Second, as 
it may be supposed, thought chiefly of Hanover, and was ready to 
push the system to any extreme. Lord Carteret, a daring, ambitious, 
able minister, was ready to indulge him in all his plans and preju- 
dices. Had the Pelhams resolved to adopt different views, the con- 
test would then have been one of a grave, interesting, constitutional 
nature, — one in which it would have been very fit that both the 
monarch and his favorite should have found themselves unable to 
proceed, from a want of the assistance of the House of Commons and 
of the public. But though Mr. Pelham had himself very reasonable 
opinions on the subject of the Continent, very different from those of 
Lord Carteret, he was obliged, or induced, to give way to his brother, 



PELHAM. 495 

the Duke of Newcastle, who had been, in like manner, obliged or in- 
duced to give way to the king. Tlie king, therefore, after all, pre- 
vailed. The result was, and the only result, that a Hanover system 
of politics was carried on by the king and the Pelhams, and not by 
the king and Lord Carteret : that is, the government was in the hands 
of ministers more constitutional and more reasonable for the manage- 
ment of home politics, but less fitted to engage with effect in the 
politics of Europe. 

The peace of Aix-la-Chapelle at last took place. It is well de- 
scribed by Mr. Coxe, page 359. " The terms of the treaty of Aix- 
la-Chapelle," says he, " were highly favorable to the maritime powers, 
as France relinquished all her conquests in the Low Countries, for 
the restitution of Cape Breton. The house of Austria was alone dis- 
satisfied mih. the dismemberment of Silesia and the country of Glatz, 
which was guarantied to the king of Prussia, with the loss of Par- 
ma and Placentia, which were settled on Don Pliilip, and the cession 
of some districts in the Milanese to the king of Sardinia. 

" Thus, after an immense expense of blood and treasure, ended a 
war in wliich Great Britaui and France gained nothing but the ex- 
perience of each other's strength and power. France perceived the 
riches and perseverance of Great Britain to be much greater than she 
had imagined ; and Great Britain became sensible, that the power of 
France, acting in the Low Countries and in her own neighbourhood 
against so despicable a barrier as was then opposed, was irresistible. 
The commercial disputes between Spain and Great Britain in the 
West Indies — the great object of the war — seemed to have been 
rehnquished, and only specified in the treaty for form's sake ; while 
each of these nations, though mutually weakened, found themselves 
in the same condition as before the war. The sober and sensible 
part of the English began to speak with revei'ence of Sir Robert 
Walpole's pacific administration ; and those who had been his greatest 
enemies seemed at a loss to account for the reasons why the war had 
been undertaken." 

You Avill see reason, I think, to assent to these representations of 
Mr. Coxe. 

As we proceed in the subsequent chapters of his work, similar in- 
trigues for power continue to appear. Frederic, then Prince of 
Wales, the father of the present king, had liis party in opposition to 
the court ; and though Pelliam, Fox, Pitt, and Murray were rang- 
ed under the banners of administration, the prince's party was clear- 
ly gaining ground when he unexpectedly died in 1751. The want 
of proper elevation of understanding and sentiment in the Duke of 
Newcastle gave endless scope to the jealousies and intrigues of the 
different leaders of different parties ; and when Mr. Pelham, the ef- 
fective minister, died in 1754, a new scene was opened of contest 
between Fox, afterwards Lord Holland, and Pitt, afterwards Lord 



49(3 LECTURE XXVIII. 

Chatham. Pitt was, hoAvever, too magnanimous and able, to please 
either the Duhe of Newcastle or the king. Fox, who loved money, 
though profuse and dissolute in his youth, Avas, on the whole, a better 
courtier, and being less worthy of success, obtained it. 

These times cannot now be more easily or better understood than 
by reading these chapters of Coxe. Other particulars will be found 
besides those I have alluded to : that Mr. Pitt, for instance, never 
spoke the invective against Horace Walpole which is attributed to 
him ; that the kingdom, from want of vigor in the cabinet, had a nar- 
row escape from Marshal Saxe and a French invasion ; that the Life 
of Lord Chatham, as published some years ago, is supei'ficial and in- 
accurate, drawn from newspapers and party pamphlets, interspersed 
with a few anecdotes communicated in desultory conversations by Earl 
Temple. 

Particulars of this kind may be found in the text and in the notes 
of this work, — this Life of Lord Walpole. The great wish of Lord 
Walpole seems to have been, to persuade the English king and 
ministry to form a strict alliance with Prussia. He laboi-ed the point 
by every effort in his poAver, private conversation, and a written me- 
moir. He seems not to have sufficiently appreciated the difficulty of 
combining Austria and Prussia in a common system of politics ; nor 
the improbability of bringing forward, with success, any poAver but 
the house of Austria to oppose the monarchy of France. 

The Walpoles, however, must be thought right in the main point 
of their politics, — their endeavouring to persuade Maria Theresa to 
yield to the injustice of the king of Prussia at first, the better to 
enable them to make a combination for her against the power of 
France, which was evidently become a most formidable enemy to the 
liberties both of Germany and of Europe. They Avere also right in 
another point, — that any contest Avith France would certainly be 
foUoAved by another contest on English ground, for the croAATi of these 
realms, — that is, by an invasion from the Pretender. Sir Robert 
Walpole lived to see Ms long and constant prediction just fulfilling. 

On the whole, the proper system of foreign politics was sufficiently 
plain : that France was becoming too strong ; that Prussia was inter- 
ested in the Germanic liberties, and might have been prevailed upon 
to be at least neutral ; and that Austria, as the natural enemy of 
France, Avas to be brought forAvard in open opposition. But Hanover, 
not England, and not Europe, was unfortunately the object, — the 
great point at all events to be secured. Foreign expenses and en- 
tanglements, to an endless extent, and of an inextricable nature, were 
the consequence ; a consequence that must be considered as the price 
which the nation paid for the establishment of her civil and rehgious 
liberties, and the establishment of the Brunswick family on the 
throne, on the principles of the Revolution in 1G88. 

As another object deserving your attention, may be mentioned the 



REBELLION OF 1745. 497 

Rebellion of 1745. You will see the history of it in Smollett. It 
has been professedly treated by Home, the author of the beautiful 
tragedy of Douglas. It is also noticed by Lacretelle ; and it is al- 
ways amusing to observe what foreigners say of us. Smollett, him- 
self a Scotchman, was deeply affected by the cruelties that arc gen- 
erally understood to have followed the defeat of the Highlanders at 
Culloden. This seems the most material point of difference between 
his accomit and that of Home, who passes over this part of his sub- 
ject in silence, very improperly ; for it is on occasions like these that 
history should exercise its awful censure, if blame has been incurred; 
and as the charge has been made, it should have been either confirm- 
ed or refuted. It is not very promising to see a history of the Rebel- 
lion in 1745 dedicated to the reigning sovereign ; and the silence of 
Home must be considered as an indirect acknowledgment that the 
severities exercised on this occasion were more than were necessary, 
and therefore such as deserve reprobation. The cause of humanity 
must not be violated, even by those who have been hazarding their 
lives in the defence of the free government of England, — still less by 
those who are sitting in its cabinets. 

Since I last read this lecture, a book has been published, — Me- 
moirs of the Rebellion of 1745, by the Chevalier Johnstone, who was 
aid-de-camp to Lord George Murray, and assistant aid-de-camp to 
Prince Charles. It should be looked at, particularly the introduction, 
which is sensible and important. The notes are always good. The 
great impressions left on the mind of the reader are, that the rebellion 
was in reality more formidable than he may have supposed, the cruel- 
ties of the Duke of Cumberland and of his agents more disgraceful. 
The author endeavours also to persuade his readers, but I tliink in 
vain, that the battle of Culloden was less decisive, and the talents 
and character of Prince Charles more totally unworthy of the enter- 
prise, than he may have imagined. The last half of the book is oc- 
cupied with the author's adventures and efforts to escape ; they are 
often curious, and sometimes descriptive of manners. The author 
ends his memoir in something like despair, at the approach of old age 
and beggary. The manuscript was originally in the Scotch College, 
and is now at Longman's. It is not very flattering to our national 
character to be obliged to conclude from the Stuart Papers, now in 
possession of his Majesty, that so large a part of the English aristoc- 
racy invited the prince into England, — that much the same conclu- 
sion may be drawn from the Culloden Papers lately published, in 1815. 
This is noticed in a note to the present work. But these are particu- 
lars not to be forgotten, when we are considering the merits and de- 
merits of the Whigs of the last century, and of Sir Robert Walpole ; 
those, too, of their opponents, — the Tory and Jacobite leaders, — 
Shippen, Sir WilUam Wyndham, Lord Bolingbroke, and even of 
Pulteney. 

63 PP* 



498 LECTURE XXVIII. 

I have now again another postscript to add to my lecture ; for, 
many years after writing what I have just now dehvered, I have just 
seen an article in the Quarterly Review, of June, 1827, on Mr. Mac- 
kenzie's edition of the Works of Home, as I understand, by Walter 
Scott. I am such an idolater of this extraordinary writer, that 
nothing can be so gratifying to me as to perceive that the representa- 
tions thus made are abundantly strengthened and confirmed by every 
thing he says. The article cannot be as gratifying to you as it has 
been to me ; but it has a reference to other literary characters, as well 
as to Home, and you will find it, in every respect, very entertaming. 

The work of Home was not entirely such as might have been ex- 
pected from one who was not only an actor in the scene, but the au- 
thor of a tragedy like Douglas, elegant enough to have pleased on 
the French stage, and yet aifecting enough to succeed on ours. The 
History of the Rebellion was a work which had been meditated so 
long, that it was delivered to the world too late, — when the writer 
was no longer what he once was. But I recommend it to your peru- 
sal, because it has all the marks of authenticity, — possesses, I think, 
more merit than is generally supposed, — treats of a very remark- 
able event in our history, — and is, after all, entertaining, and not 
long. 

I do not now detain you with the narrative of this enterprise, which 
even in the history will not occupy you for many pages. The points 
of it are shortly these : — The Pretender landed almost alone in one 
of the desolate parts of Scotland ; with difficulty got a few chiefs to 
join liim ; obtained possession of the town, though not of the castle, of 
Edinburgh ; defeated one royal army that came to dislodge him ; 
pushed on to what he considered the disaffected parts of England, the 
northern counties ; shaped his course for the capital, and actually 
reached Derby in his way to it. His followers, or rather some of the 
leaders, then despaired, of the enterprise, and forced him to retreat. 
When he had returned to Scotland, a second royal army was de- 
feated at Falkirk ; and at length, in April, 1746, about nine months 
after his first landing, his Highlanders were regularly encountered 
at Culloden. They were first sustained in their attack, and after- 
wards chased from the field by the veteran troops of the Duke of 
Cumberland. The Pretender then became a fugitive, and was hunted 
from place to place ; and though a reward of thirty thousand pounds, 
in a manner not very worthy of an English cabinet, had been set on 
his head, and though he was transferred from the care of one High- 
lander to another, during several weeks, not a man could be found 
among these hardy children of tempests and poverty, these magnani- 
mous outcasts of government and nature, base and unmanly enough 
either to assassinate or to betray. He at length made his way to 
France, like his ancestor, Charles the Second, after sufferings and 
escapes almost incredible. 



REBELLION OF 1745. 499 

There are parts of this story which you will find very interesting 
in Home : — the commencement of tlie enterprise ; the transactions 
that took place at Edinburgh while the rebels were approaching ; the 
intended night attack previous to the battle of Culloden. Some dis- 
appointment is, however, experienced by the reader, when he comes 
to the adventures of Charles after his final defeat. They are not 
given either in a very clear or very interesting manner. There are 
a few papers in the appendix which make some amends. 

But there are some particidar topics connected with this enterprise 
which I could wish you would make the subject of your reflections. 
For instance, — who, and what could be the men who could thus 
crowd in a moment around the descendant of James the Second, de- 
feat a body of regular troops, throw England into confusion, and 
march within a hundred miles of the metropohs ? These Highlanders 
ought surely to appear to the student a very extraordinary descrip- 
tion of men ; they certainly were so. Some account of them is given 
by Home, and of late a more full and regular account by INIrs. Grant. 
From this work, or even the critique on it in the Edinburgh lleview,* 
and from the History of Home, you will be able to explain to your- 
selves the singular political problem (for such it is) to which I am 
now endeavouring to direct your future consideration. 

I will allude to a circumstance or two. \Ylien Charles first reach- 
ed the Higldands, in a small ship, with no other means than a few 
muskets and about four thousand pounds in money, and proposed to 
some of the chiefs to march to England and dethrone George the 
Second, heroic as were their natural sentiments, they resolutely de- 
clined all share in so wild an undertaking. Charles talked to two of 
them who had come on board his vessel ; he persuaded, argued, and 
explained ; and as he walked backwards and forwards on the deck, 
he was overheard by a Highlander, who had come on board with his 
leader, and who had no sooner gathered from the discourse that the 
stranger was the Prince of Wales, and that the chief and his brother 
refused to take arms, than his color went and came, his eyes sparkled, 
he shifted his place, he grasped his sword. " And will not you as- 
sist me ? " said Charles, who had observed him. " I will, I will," 
said Ranald ; " though no other man in the Highlands should draw a 
sword, I am ready to die for you." " I only wish that all the High- 
landers were like you," said Charles. Without further deliberation, 
the chief and the brother, the two Macdonalds, declared that they 
also would join, and use their utmost endeavours to engage their 
countrymen to come forward in his cause. 

Now such was the first extraordinary step in this extraordinary 
enterprise. Another remained. Lochiel, then the head of the 
powerful clan of the Camerons, was yet to be gained over. He was 

* Edinburgh Review for August, 1811. — N. 



500 LECTURE XXVIII. 

coining to Charles to give his reasons for not joining him, — reasons, 
as he had told his brother, which admitted of no reply. " But that 
is of no consequence," said his -^nser brother. He was, no doubt, 
very right; they certainly admitted of no reply, and had received 
none when urged to the prince. But as the conference was closing, 
Charles, in his despair, declared that he would erect the royal stand- 
ard even with the foAV friends he had ; proclaim to the people of 
Britain that Charles Stuart was come over to claim the crown of his 
ancestors, — to win it, or perish in the attempt. "You, Lochiel," 
said he, " who my father has often told me was our firmest friend, — 
you, Lochiel, may stay at home, and learn from the newspapers the 
fate of your prince." " No," said Lochiel, " I will share the fate of 
my prince, and so shall every man over whom nature or fortune has 
given me any power." It is a point agreed amongst the Highlanders, 
that, if Lochiel had persisted in his refusal to take up arms, the other 
chiefs would not have joined the standard of Charles, and the spark 
of rebellion must have instantly expired. 

Such were the chances and turns of elevated sentiment on which 
this enterprise depended ; such were the grounds on which these 
bands of brothers were to descend from their mountains, at every 
step they took incur the penalties of treason and death, lift up their 
eyes and gaze unappalled on the colossal power of England ! — never 
pause for a moment to contrast the simple target and claymore of 
Scotland with her mighty lance and pegis, — the artillery at her feet, 
and her fleets in the distance ; but at all events precipitate themselves 
forward, and ask from their chief no question but — " Was it his 
will ? " and from their prince no signal but — " Did he lead ? " 

It may be doubted whether the history of the world ever exhibited 
a stronger instance of the triumph of heroic sentiment over the calmer 
suggestions of reason. But when our first impression of surprise and 
indeed of admiration is passed away, we must look upon this as a very 
striking instance to prove the indispensable necessity of the general 
diffusion of political knowledge among all ranks and descriptions of 
men. A mistake was now made merely from the want of pohtical 
knowledge ; and on this account, and on no other, brave men Avere to 
perish in the field, and the great cause of civil and religious liberty 
was to be endangered to the utmost, — the cause of the Revolution of 
1688, the cause of England and of mankind, — and endangered by the 
most noble and generous of men. I say, endangered to the utmost ; 
for had the northern parts of England been as magnanimous in senti- 
ment as they, too, were mistaken in opinion, — had they been, like 
the Highlanders, not only ignorant and misled in their pohtical no- 
tions, but generous and fearless in their characters, it is scarcely too 
much to affirm that the Rebelhon of 17-15 would have been successful, 
the Brunswick family would have been driven from our land, and 
freedom would have lost her boast (a boast so cheering to a philo- 



REBELLION OF 1745. 501 

sopliic mind), that she, too, had placed a monarch on a throne, and, in 
Engkmd at least, -vvas had in honor in palaces and courts. The senti- 
ment on which the Stuart family had to depend, from the first, was 
merely an over-statement of an acknowledged principle in political 
science, the principle of hereditary right. It was tliis sentiment, and 
this alone, that now armed the clans of Scotland in their cause, and 
so prejudiced Wales and the northern counties of England in their 
favor. 

I will not insult, as some seem ready to do, the memory of these 
heroes of the Highlands (for such they were) by supposing that 
either plunder or power was their object ; far higher and more noble 
were the feelings of their hearts. It was loyalty to the chief in the 
follower, — it was loyalty to the prince in the chief, — it was in all 
the indefeasible nature, as they supposed, of hereditary right, that 
made the cause of Charles Stuart, in their opmion, the good cause 
and the true, whatever might be its issue, however discountenanced 
and abandoned by the timeserving sycophants of the Lowlands and 
of the South. 

" The king shall have his own again," 

was the language of the popular ballads of the time. The same senti- 
ment has been caught by the poet of Caledonia, in liis ChevaUer's 
Lament : — 

" His right are these hills, and his right are these valleys, 
"Where the wild beasts find shelter, but I can find none." 

It is impossible not to respect men who could thus devote them- 
selves, from principle, to an unprotected adventurer like Charles. 
It may be useful for us to meditate upon these examples of elevated 
sentiment, that we may catch a portion for our own hearts of the di- 
vine flame which we are admiring. But we must be admonished, at 
the same time, by examples like these, that heroism in the sentiment, 
and generosity in the feehng, are not alone sufficient ; that these are 
the Hghts which, "though Hghts from heaven, may lead astray"; 
that principles, however elevated, must be properly estimated, their 
bounds ascertamed, their value compared with that of other princi- 
ples ; and, in a word, that sentiment alone must not actuate the man, 
till it has first been shown its course and taught its limits by the 
superintending power of the understanding. 

What spectacle was ever seen like that before us ? The children 
of poetry, gallantry, and song, of hardiness and courage, of courteous- 
ness and truth, rushing from the free air and simple pleasures of 
their mountains, to fight the battles of — what? — of arbitrary 
power ! to bleed in defence of — whom ? — of the representatives 
of civil and religious tyranny ! to perish, and for what end ? — that 
they might destroy the fair fabric of the constitution of England ! 



502 LECTURE XXVIII. 

It pleased a Higher Power, in his overruling mercies to these 
kingdoms, to order it otherwise, — to decree that thej should not suc- 
ceed. They paid the forfeit of their delusions and mistakes : they 
lay slaughtered on the plain of Culloden ; they were hunted down by 
their conquerors amid their native wilds ; they perished, and their 
cause has perished with them. So perish the memory of their faults ! 
Their high and noble qualities survive, for they have descended to 
their countrymen, the heroes of our own days, the heroes who carry 
terror into the legions of France, and who have at length found a 
cause Avhere the Muse of History may tell their achievements without 
a blush, and record their virtues without a sigh. 

When Ave reflect on the character of these inhabitants of the High- 
lands, it is not very agreeable to observe the want of prospective wis- 
dom that was shown by our English cabinets. The exiled family of 
the Stuarts had belonged to Scotland ; there had been a rebellion in 
their favor in 1715 ; and it was always the maxim of Sir Robert Wal- 
pole, that on the event of a French war another would take place. 
Was no effort, therefore, made by the legislature to counteract this 
disposition of the Highlanders to insurrection ? Could nothing have 
been attempted ? Could not their generous and active qualities have 
been converted to the benefit, as they had been to the injury, of the 
state ? A mechanic requires a fulcrum, an artist a rude material ; 
he asks no more ; his ingenuity and labor are to do the rest. Were 
there, therefore, in the character of the Highlanders no opportunities 
for the science of a statesman, — no fulcrum, and no rude material ? 

These are questions that should occupy your thoughts while you 
read the events of this rebellion ; and before you consider what might 
have been done, I will mention what really was done, in the way of 
legislative provision. 

The Highland clans, you will observe, were not all disaffected : 
far from it. There were Whig as well as Jacobite clans. The gov- 
ernment of George the First issued out its orders, therefore, to dis- 
arm the Highlanders. Tliis is always a very favorite measure of 
lazy and arbitrary, and, I may add, ignorant legislators. They seize 
the arms, and leave the hearts of a people to be seized by others. 
But what was the result ? The common one, — that the well-affected 
gave up their arms at the time appointed, and the rest concealed 
them, or took some subsequent opportmiity of providing themselves 
afresh. 

At last, Duncan Forbes, the president of the Court of Session, 
seeing a war with Spain approaching, and avrare of the consequences, 
in the autumn of the year 1738 (more than twenty years after the 
first rebellion) proposed that government should raise four or five 
regiments in the Highlands, appoint an English or Scotch officer of 
undoubted loyalty to be colonel of each regiment, and name all the 
other officers from a list which he gave in, and which comprehended 



REBELLION OF 1745. 503 

all the cliiefs and chieftains of the disaffected clans. He had no 
doubt, he said, that these men would serve well against the enemy 
abroad, and even, in fact, be hostages for the good behaviour of their 
relations at home. 

That this, at least, should have been one of the expedients resorted 
to long before is sufficiently obvious ; but what was the event ? Sir 
Robert Walpole said it was the most sensible plan he had seen, sum- 
moned a cabinet council, laid it before them, recommended it strong- 
ly, — and then, what was the difficulty ? Why, every other member 
of the cabinet was against it, because opposition, they said, Avould ex- 
claim that Sir Robert Walpole was raising an army of Highlanders to 
join the standing army and enslave the people of England. The 
plan was, therefore, laid aside, and Sir Robert, and probably the 
cabinet, with the fear of a rebelUon constantly before their eyes, did 
nothing. They had done nothing for twenty years before, when any 
expedients of the kind might have been tried with a good grace and 
with a proper chance of success. 

" What impolicy ! " we cry, and justly. But this is not a field in 
which our English statesmen, at least our English cabinets, have 
much displayed their legislative wisdom. More than a thousand 
years before the Revolution of 1688, the Romans could contrive that 
" the Barbarians should consume their dangerous valor in the service 
of the state." No pohcy so obvious ; and though it was abused by 
the later emperors of Rome, in a very extraordinary state of the 
AYorld, to their injury, none so easy to be modified and properly 
adapted to the circumstances of any critical case ; yet no hint either 
of ancient or modern policy seems ever to have reached our legisla- 
tors. Lord Chatham, who, with all his faults, had that elevation in 
the character of his mind without which no minister can ever be 
great, made it his boast (and it was an honest boast) that he had been 
the first to take advantage of the noble qualities of the Scottish na- 
tion. " I was the first minister," said he, " who looked for merit, 
and found it in the mountains of the North. I called it forth, and 
drew into your service a hardy and intrepid race of men, — men who, 
when left by your jealousy, became a prey to the artifices of your 
enemies, and had gone nigh to overturn the state, in the war before 
the last." His example stands alone. Nothing is ever done by 
cabinets in the way of conciliation or timely and prospective wisdom ; 
they live upon expedients, and provide only for the day that is going 
over them. 

But, before I conclude this lecture, I would wish you to cast one 
glance more on this remarkable rebellion. I would wish you to con- 
sider once more the character of the Highlanders, and the romantic 
nature of this enterprise in its commencement and progress, and then 
turn to the melancholy contrast exhibited by the people of England 
at this singular crisis. I do not say that associations were not form- 



504 LECTURE XXAIII. 

ed, — that volunteers were not collecting, — that the nobility and 
gentry Avere not in alarm and in motion. But what is, on the whole, 
the simple fact, as it has been stated with his usual point and acute- 
ness by Mr. Gibbon ? That Charles and his followers marched into 
the heart of the kingdom without either being joined by their friends 
or opposed by their enemies. 

But how, it may be asked, could such a strange fact as this take 
place ? From national apathy, or disaffection, or pusillanimity ? 
Whence could it arise ? The first answer to this question must be, 
that the nobility, gentry, and yeomanry of the country were not pre- 
pared for an inroad of this kind ; they had not been taught by their 
rulers to expect it, nor directed to learn the use of arms, and accus- 
tom themselves to military exercises. 

But what need, it will be replied, of the use of arms and military 
exercises ? Why did not the country rise, as one man, to beat back 
invaders that were as insulting from their numbers as their designs ? 
Four or five thousand men marching against the people of England, 
to give away their crown and destroy their civil and rehgious liber- 
ties ! This question, after all, can best be answered by the compari- 
son of the English and Highland character at the time. The High- 
land character had remained the same ; but the Enghsh character 
had been materially altered by the influence of commerce and manu- 
factures, and half a century of peace and prosperity. There was in- 
telligence, literature, industry, affluence, civilization, in England ; but 
there was no ardor of sentiment, as in Scotland, — no visions of the 
imagination, no traditional poetry, and no national music, — no spirits 
in the mountains, and the ghosts of no heroes in the clouds, — no 
poverty that walked erect and famihar into the castle and the hall, — 
no links of genealogy that united the hovel and the palace. Little 
had been heard of these things in England during the last century, 
though much had been heard of the value of estates, of the balance 
of trade, and of profit and loss. 

I speak not to depreciate the labors of the manufacturer, the value 
of commerce, or the progressive blessings of successful industry in 
the towns or in the country ; but I certainly do speak in order to 
represent to you, that, as I have before observed how necessary is 
the frequent exercise of the understanding to save men from the de- 
lusions of their feelings, so I must now observe, with no less anxiety, 
how necessary is the influence of sentiment as well as reason, of the 
elevated sensibilities as well as the prudent dispositions of the mind, 
to the perfection of the human character, more particularly of the 
human character when found in any highly commercial and manu- 
facturing and prosperous community ; that, without these sensibilities, 
wisdom and science may be of no avail to the individuals of a great 
nation, and their opulence be wrested from them and be only an in- 
citement to the enterprise of their invaders; that the romance of 



REBELLION OF 1745. 505 

sentiment, as it would be thought on the Royal Exchange of London, 
must not be banished from the land, lest the land should perish as 
Holland has done, surrounded with the images of its commerce and 
its wealth, but no longer the Holland where Philip and the Spanish 
infantry were defied, and Louis and the armies of France successfully 
resisted. You will easily trace out, on the one hand, the various and 
inestimable blessings wliich result from commerce and manufactures, 
from the successful exertions of industry, and the increasing opulence 
and independence of the inferior orders of the community ; but you 
will easily see, on the other hand, that the virtue of personal courage, 
and all the high qualities that belong to the character, not merely of 
the soldier, but even of the patriot, have a tendency to decline in a 
nation as it advances in its commerce and manufactures, as it makes, 
in short, greater progress in the science of affluence, — that is, as 
those men everywhere multiply and spread themselves who are more 
exclusively occupied in the mere pursuit of gain. 

How the sentiment may still be kept high in the community, while 
men of this, I admit, very useful description are everywhere increas- 
ing in their numbers and influence, — how these men are themselves 
to be properly elevated in their minds, while they are so exclusively 
occupied with their bargains and their markets, the article they 
are to produce, and the price they are to receive, — how this can be 
effected, I may not have here any leisure to inquire ; but I may at 
least say this, that it cannot be done by pressing hard on the demo- 
cratic parts of the constitution, or that it cannot be done by prevent- 
ing the education of the lower orders. I should rather say that it 
can be done only by means exactly the reverse : by keeping the poor 
man as enliglitencd, that is, as susceptible of a sense of duty and 
generous feelings, as the nature of his imperfect condition will allow ; 
and by accustoming every man to interest himself, and by calling him 
out to interest himself, in the concerns of his country, — that is, to 
think as highly of his own political importance as the peace of that 
country, as the safety and respectabihty of the executive power, will 
possibly admit. 

Supposing you now to pass on from this rebellion in 1745, you will 
reach the peace in 1748, then arrive at a delicious period of tranquil- 
Hty that intervened for seven short years, and thus at last be con- 
ducted to the great war which was raging when his present Majesty, 
George the Third, ascended the throne. This war was concluded by 
the peace of 1763. 

On the subjects of these wars, their causes and their events, you 
Avill find information in the common histories of the times. I have 
already insisted, perhaps to a degree of tediousness, on the principles 
by which questions of this nature ought to be judged, — " Justa bella 
quibus necessaria." It remains but to observe that the question of 
the proper boundaries of the French and English settlements in North 

64 QQ 



506 LECTURE XXVIII. 

America was not accurately determined, when it might have been, at 
the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle in 1748, and that the subsequent war 
was marked by those successes which must for ever attest the hero- 
ism of which the inhabitants of these islands can be made capable, 
and attest, at the same time, the genius of that great minister, the 
first Mr. Pitt, who was called by the people, rather than by the 
monarch, to draw forth the energies of his country. 

And now it must be further observed, that tliis was the very peo- 
ple who had suffered the Highlanders to march to the centre of their 
kingdom to give away their empire to the Stuarts ; that afterwards 
without a murmur suffered a secretary of state, Mr. Henry Fox, to 
bring over Hessians and Hanoverians for their defence ; and that 
gave occasion to Dr. Brown, in liis Estimate of the Times, to repre- 
sent them as degraded and lost in effeminacy and luxury. At the 
summons, however, of Mr. Pitt, they started from their trance, such 
is the importance of the government of a country, and they shamed 
the secretary who had insulted, and confuted the author who had 
libelled them ; they did so by defeating their enemies in every quar- 
ter of the world. The truth is, that ministers hke the first Mr. 
Fox, and writers hke Dr. Brown, were not fit, the one to call forth 
the powers of a great civilized nation, or the other to estimate its 
character. 

They who rail against the luxury of the times are in fact declaim- 
ing against the growing prosperity of the country. The most re- 
fined of men may be the most brave, — they generally are so. It 
was not by luxuries that the Roman and Grecian empires fell, as has 
been commonly supposed ; but by defects in their civil polity, and by 
the gradual and consequent decay of that spirit of freedom which, 
when it existed unimpaired, preserved them safe from every invader. 
Luxuries are not fatal to a people, but as the possession of them sup- 
poses a large mass of the community employed in furnishing them by 
their industry, — that is, employed in the pursuit of gain, and there- 
fore exposed to great debasement in their natural sentiments, and the 
loss of their military spirit. But if this debasement be counteracted 
by such expedients as I have mentioned, by diffusing as widely as 
possible the benefits of education, and by keeping the constitution of 
the country as free as the security of society will allow, that is, by 
giving every man some interest in his own character, some feeling of 
personal duty, and some sense of poHtical consequence and right, then 
assuredly it will follow that never will there be wanting to that com- 
munity men of high sentiments and military spirit, those who are to 
lead and those who are to follow, not merely to the defence of their 
native land, but to every enterprise that can be pointed out to them 
of honorable danger. 

These are, however, subjects which may not be entirely without 
their difiiculty either in theory or in practice ; but of their importance 



REBELLION OF 1745. 507 

it is needless to speak. I have at least presented them to your curi- 
osity, and offered my own view of them, and I proceed to other mat- 
ters. You will find some sensible observations respecting them in 
the fourth volume of Millar ; and finally, the defence of our island 
by the resident natives of it, its industrious and commercial popu- 
lation, has much occupied the Parliamentary debates of our own 
times. 

Ha^ang thus noticed the national wars before and during the ad- 
ministration of Mr. Pitt, I must leave you to read the events in the 
regular histories. The different hopes and fears, and the various 
emotions of mortification or triumph, by Avhich the public were agi- 
tated, will be best seen in the magazines of the time ; and the events 
and leading particulars from the year 1758, in the Annual Register. 
I do not longer detain you with allusions to enterprises and successes 
which can never cease to be interesting to the reasonable pride as 
well as natural curiosity of every English reader. 

Such are the more obvious topics to which the history of this era 
will lead you : the intrigues of different parties on the fall of Sir 
Robert, and afterwards ; the Rebellion of 1745 ; the two great wars ; 
the peace in 1748, and the peace m 1763. 

We have Coxe, Dodington, Lord Waldegrave ; we have the common 
magazines and the histories to refer to ; from the year 1758, the An- 
nual Register. But I have already intimated, that, when we look 
for Parliamentary debates, our mortification is extreme. No names 
so great as those of Lord Hardwicke, Lord Talbot, Lord Mansfield, 
Mr. Pitt. The latter commanded by his eloquence the attention of 
the House of Commons, the affections of his countrymen ; and at last 
that eloquence enabled him, according to the phrase then current, to 
take the cabinet by storm. Yet it is not till all these Avouders had 
been accompUshed, and till the breaking out of the disputes Avith 
America, that the debates afford us any adequate specimens to enable 
us to comprehend his extraordinary powers. Of the silver-tongued 
Murray there is still less. But in the course of the four volumes of 
Debrett's Debates from the year 1743 to 1768, a few speeches and 
imperfect debates appear, which should be read not only on account 
of the speakers, but the subjects : the debate on Lord Hardwicke's 
clause to be added to the Treason Bill, in 1745 ; the corresponding 
debate in the Commons, more particularly a debate in the Commons 
on a motion for annual Parliaments, in January, 1745, which was 
lost by a majority of only thirty-two, — namely, one hundred and 
forty-five to one hundred and thirteen ; Lord Hardwicke's speech on 
his Bill for abolishing the Heritable Jurisdictions in Scotland ; de- 
bates on the Mutiny Bills ; the reasons that were urged for the Bill 
to naturalize Foreign Protestants ; the discussions that arose on the 
subject of a national mihtia ; on the Marriage Act ; the debate on the 
Jew Bill, and on its repeal ; the debate, or rather Mr. Pitt's speech, 



508 LECTURE XXVIII. 

on the peace of 17G3 ; the proceedings in the case of Wilkes ; the 
motion and debate on general warrants. These are parts of Debrett's 
four volumes that will more particularly furnish you mth general 
principles and materials for reflection. The legislature, on the whole, 
seems to have been growing more liberal and tolerant as the century 
advanced ; the pubhc to have been far behind them. 

Of the Pelham administration less can now be known than could 
have been expected. The best account of their measures and views 
may be collected from Smollett, who was at least a contemporary his- 
torian and a man of talents. With some slight exceptions, they al- 
ways showed themselves friendly to the principles of mild government. 
They were tolerant, peaceful, prudent ; they had the merit of respect- 
ing public opinion ; and though they were not fitted to advance the 
prosperity of their country by any exertions of political genius, they 
were not blind to such opportunities as fairly presented themselves. 
They were quietists, but meant well ; they were disinterested, did 
good service to the house of Hanover, and their administration is 
honorably remembered ; but Mr. Pelham unfortunately died in 1754, 
and the duke, liis brother, was deprived of his assistance when it was 
more than ever indispensable to him. The scene was becoming 
stormy, and great difficulties were to be encountered ; the duke, 
therefore, and his adherents gave way to Mr. Pitt, and very proper- 
ly assisted with their votes the minister who disdained their counsels. 

The administration of this mhiister of the people, the first Mr. Pitt, 
is now known only by the conquests which he either achieved or 
planned. What passed in the houses of Parliament has not come 
down to us ; it was probably of little importance. Opposition was 
silenced not only by a sort of union of parties, but by the popularity 
of Mr. Pitt and the successes of the war. The secretary, as it has 
been said, with one hand wielded the democracy of England, and 
with the other smote the house of Bourbon. The monarch himself, 
George the Second, seems at last to have become a convert to his 
merits, and to have joined, however late, in the applauses of the 
public. The monarch, however, George the Second, died ; and this 
great minister, on the accession of his present Majesty, George the 
Third, to the throne, soon felt the ground, as he said, tottering under 
him. On the first opportunity he was displaced, and Europe, that 
had seen only two successful war ministers during the century, Marl- 
borough and Mr. Pitt, alike in their fame, and alike in their fall, 
must have thought that in our extraordinary island the surest method 
of losing office was to display the talents that deserve it, and that, to 
fill St. James's with murmurs and dissatisfaction, it was necessary 
only to make the world resound with the triumphs of our arms. 

The lecture that you have just heard was written more than twenty 
years ago, with such assistance as was then within my reach ; but I 
can now refer the student to more ample information, which has lately 



PRUSSIA AND MARIA THERESA. 609 

appeared, chiefly derived from the indefatigable labors of the late 
Archdeacon Coxe, to whom all readers of history are so deeply in- 
debted. In the year 1829 were published his Memoirs of the Pel- 
ham Administration, a posthumous work, dra^ni up under circum- 
stances which add a sentiment of melancholy tenderness to the re- 
spectful gratitude with which this most valuable writer must ever be 
regarded. Such sentiments will be confirmed by a very sensible 
article in the Quarterly Review for October, 1833, where the merits 
of the author and the man are properly stated, neither of which, as it 
has always struck me while I have been a reader of history, were 
sufficiently estimated by the public. 

I have now, then, only to refer the student to the work I have just 
mentioned, and to request that he will depend on this regular and 
authentic account of an important period in our annals, while he 
wishes to know not only the transactions that belong to it, but the 
characters of the ministers and Parliamentary leaders by whom it 
was distinguished. In no other way can he derive a proper idea of 
the merits of Mr. Pelham, Lord Ilai'dwicke, and, above all, of the 
Duke of Newcastle, whose vanity and some defects of character ex- 
posed him to the ridicule of wits and satirists, and have hitherto ob- 
scured (but need no longer obscure) his real merits both as a states- 
man and a man. He was neither without his talents nor his virtues, 
as the pubHc at present suppose. 

I must guard you against the historical publications of the cele- 
brated Horace Walpole. Look for entertainment in them, if you 
please, and you will not be disappointed ; but give him not your con- 
fidence : indeed, you will soon see, from his lively and epigrammatic 
style of invective, that he cannot deserve it. 

Finally, I must mention to you that a very full and entertaining 
account of the Rebellion in 1745 was drawn up by IMr. Chambers, 
of Edinburgh, and now makes two very interesting volumes in Con- 
stable's Miscellany. 



LECTURE XXIX. 



PRUSSIA AND MARIA THERESA. 

We have been now long occupied with the English history. I did 
not wish to break through the different links by which the different 
parts are connected together ; but in the mean time we have entirely 
turned away from the Continent, and even from France. To the 



510 LECTURE XXIX. 

French history I "will advert immediately ; but in the mean time I 
will call your attention to the Continent. While reading the works 
of Mr. Coxe, you will have been continually summoned away in this 
manner, and I can no longer forbear adopting the same course. The 
truth is, that our progress has long since brought us within the view 
of a personage so celebrated during the last half-century, that for the 
present I must leave the histories both of France and of England, and 
I must endeavour to furnish you with proper materials for the appre- 
ciation of the striking events with which he was connected, and of his 
own very extraordinary talents and character ; I allude to the king of 
Prussia. 

I must in the first place observe, that, as France and England 
were actively engaged in hostilities with each other, as they took a 
part in the politics of Europe, and were connected with the great wars 
in which the king of Prussia was engaged, some general view must be 
obtained of those hostilities and of those politics, that their relation to 
the measures of this military sovereign may be understood. As a pre- 
parative, therefore, to this subject of Prussia, I must propose some 
short general history ; and I therefore mention, as adequate to this 
particular purpose, the History of Belsham, — his reign of George 
the Second. 

With respect to the king of Prussia, the great features of his life 
are, — 1st, his invasion of the territories of the young Queen Maria 
Theresa, on the death of the emperor, her father ; 2dly, the Seven 
Years' War ; 3dly, the partition of Poland. It is to the two former 
that I shall at present allude, as the latter belongs to times of a more 
recent date than I shall be able, as yet, to approach. 

In considering the subjects of history, I have always made it my 
business, first, to inquire for works in our own language, — those 
being the most likely to be placed within your reach. I have there- 
fore to mention, that a view of the reign of Frederic has been publish- 
ed by Dr. Gillies ; another by Dr. Towers ; a short account is given 
of Frederic by Dr. Johnson ; and we have Memoirs of the Court of 
Berlin, by Wraxall. Of each in its order. 

The work of Dr. Gillies I can in no respect admire. There ap- 
pear some good observations about the king's military genius, and 
there are some incidents mentioned of a general nature, which I do 
not observe in other English works. On the whole, I can recommend 
it to the student only when he wishes to leani what can be said in the 
praise or defence of Frederic. Gillies appears to me only a warm pane- 
gyrist, and on this occasion neither an historian nor a philosopher. 

Before I proceed to other English or any foreign works on this sub- 
ject, I must observe, that the following appear to me the points to 
which the student must more particularly attend, in considering the 
merits of Frederic : — 1st, The justice, or injustice, of his original at- 
tack on Silesia. Tliis very valuable province he wrested from the 



PRUSSIA AND INIARIA THERESA. 611 

house of Austria, taking advantage of the unprepared situation of the 
young queen, Maria Theresa, on her first accession to the throne. 
This was an injury and an outrage Avhich could never be forgiven by 
her ; and if this was an act of ambition, and if to this all Ids subse- 
quent contests with Austria may be traced, it is he who is responsible 
for all the calamities that ensued. 2dly, Frederic endeavoured, by 
the interference of his personal vigilance and wisdom, to nourish the 
prosperity and advance the happiness of his subjects. His measures 
and his success form, therefore, the next division of the subject. 
3dly, Frederic was a man of wit and literature ; and wc can never, 
in considering the character of this monarch, forget his personal 
qualities. What, therefore, was Frederic to his scholars and men of 
science whom he called around him ? and what to his generals and 
companions in arms ? This is the third division of the subject. And 
such are the points which must be always kept in mind by those who 
read the history of Frederic. He was one of the sovereigns of Eu- 
rope, and a great military hero ; he endeavoured to be the father of 
his people ; lastly, he was a man of talents, fond of society, and dis- 
posed to be a patron of the wits and philosophers of his age. 

All these points, and the character and merits of Frederic in every 
respect, appear to me to be well understood and represented by Dr. 
Towers ; a writer who has, like Gillies, undertaken to give the Eng- 
lish public an account of the life and reign of this renowned monarch. 
He has fulfilled the promise which he gives in his preface, and he 
has not been induced, by the splendor which surrounded lus hero, to 
vindicate his actions when they were repugnant to justice and hu- 
manity. He has given references to authorities, which Gillies has 
very impropeidy omitted ; and it will be found that every topic of 
importance connected Avith this extraordinary character is touched 
upon. Proper dihgence has been exerted, and reasonable observar 
tions are made ; so that the work may be recommended as giving a 
correct general idea of all that there is to be known, and as pointing 
out to the reader the proper sources of more minute inquiry. The 
book may not be written with any peculiar strength or ability, but it 
is unaffected and sensible, sufficiently concise, and adequate, I con- 
ceive, to all its purposes. The great events are detailed ; the cam- 
paigns described ; anecdotes given of the king, and the great military 
characters that surrounded him ; and the reader is dismissed \ai\\ an 
impression very favorable to the talents, at least, of Frederic, as a 
commander of armies, and as a prince placed at the head of an arbi- 
trary monarchy, but not favorable to him in other respects. 

To this impression, as far as it is favorable, httle will, I think, be 
added by further inquiries into other books. It was with the king as 
■\rith the image in Nebuchadnezzar's vision, — to borrow the compli- 
ment of Voltaire to Turgot, when in the gout, — " the head was of 
gold, but every other part of a very inferior quahty." Something, 



612 LECTURE XXIX. 

therefore, may be subtracted from the general impression left by 
Towers. We may learn that the king's policy was not always en- 
lightened, and that his talents, eminent as they were, did not save 
him from the mistakes of the times m Avhich he lived. But it is im- 
possible from Towers, or from any book or treatise, to learn how to 
regard Frederic with any sentiments of kindness. He is ofter^ great, 
but never amiable, — perhaps with the single exception of his be- 
haviour to his friend and favorite philosopher, Jordan. 

There is a short account of Frederic by Dr. Johnson, which was 
first printed in the Literary Magazine, in the year 1756, and is there- 
fore only a fragment. It should be read, because whatever Dr. 
Johnson writes must necessarily entertain and instruct. It is written 
with the usual decision and vigor of his biographical compositions ; 
but it was never continued, and was probably not a work of much de- 
liberation or labor. 

Coxe's House of Austria must be dihgently read, to understand 
the politics of Frederic's opponents ; but of this work I shall speak 
more hereafter. 

When other books, Enghsh and foreign, have been read, the two 
volumes of Wraxall may be looked at, — the Memoirs of the Court 
of Berhn. They will be found very entertaining, and they will some- 
times amplify, and sometimes revive, the views and opinions respect- 
ing Frederic, and subjects connected with him, which the student 
may have collected from prior reading. 

Such are, I think, our Enghsh authors ; I must now advert to the 
writings of the Continent. I shall confine myself to three authors, — 
Thiebault, the king of Prussia himself, and Mirabeau. 

And first, with respect to the five octavo volumes of Thiebault. 
You will see an account of the work in the Edinburgh Review for 
October, 1805. Thiebault was a man of letters, sent to Frederic 
from Paris, at his desire. Having read the work myself, and first 
put down my own observations, I afterwards found most of them con- 
firmed by the Review, and very few that had not been there antici- 
pated. Occurring, therefore, to two different minds, they are proba- 
bly the observations that naturally arise out of the subject. There is 
a slight passage or two in which the reviewer, who is always most at 
ease when he is severe, appears to me to have indulged his particular 
genius a little too far. For instance ; there is no need of supposing 
that Frederic did not feel most sensibly, in the common import of the 
■words, the execution of his friend De Catt. But, on the whole, I 
subscribe sufficiently to the sentiments and opinions which the re- 
viewer has delivered respecting Frederic, and recommend them to 
your attention. I must even depend on your reading tliis Edinburgh 
Review for October, 1805 ; my lecture wiU otherwise Avant one of its 
component parts. 

It is very natural to wish to see the interior of the life and char- 



PRUSSIA AND IMARIA THERESA. 513 

acter of any of those personages who are distinguished in history. It 
is on this account that Thiebault's volumes should be consulted. A 
very fair portion of this sort of information is given by Dr. Towers ; 
but those Avho wish for more must read Thi^bault. His Recollections, 
indeed, as he calls them, seldom rise to the dignity of history ; but 
they are always agreeable, often instructive, occasionally very inter- 
esting. In the first volume we have a good representation, not only 
of the king, his talents, his opinions on every subject, his conduct to 
those around him, but of Thiebault himself. A general estimate of 
the merits of Frederic concludes the volume, which is on the whole 
the hest of the five, — the first. It should hy all means be read ; it 
will be read with great pleasure. On the whole, therefore, the first 
volume, and several parts of each succeeding volume, will either oc- 
cupy or instruct the reader very agreeably. 

Frederic is, however, himself an author, and the student will 
scarcely be excused, if he does not read those parts of his works that 
are of an historic nature. 

The most curious point to observe, in these productions of the king, 
is the deceitfulness of the human heart. The king talks of the rage 
for conquest, the folly of ambition, the waste of human life, as if he 
had not been himself one of the most striking specimens of this sort 
of atrocious character that appear in liistory. 

But his account of his campaigns should he looked at. Though 
too cold and formal, it is concise, striking, rapid, — the work, as well 
of a statesman and of a man of letters, as of an accomplished warrior, 
— and therefore deserving, in different parts, the attention, not only 
of military men, but of all who hope to distinguish themselves on the 
theatre of the world. I had made large references to them, but 
omit them from want of time. 

I now proceed to another view of his character. Frederic, having 
tried the powers of his genius in laying waste the labors of man and 
in diminishing the population of his provinces, was next seen to un- 
dertake a task more difficult, one ia which the leaders of armies and 
cahinets have not hitherto been equally successful, — the task of 
nourishing the industry, increasing the numbers, and raising up the 
prosperity and happiness of those they govern. In this enterprise, 
however, as in the other, the king seems to have exerted himself with 
his usual energy and activity ; and Ave are bound to consider, as far 
as we are able, the movements of his mind, as we before did of his 
armies, — the wisdom of his counsels, when his ambition had taken 
the right direction, and was occupied in laboring to create, not de- 
stroy. To many, this part of the general subject may not be so 
entertaining as those I have hitherto mentioned ; but students must 
endeavour to instruct themselves as well as search for their amuse- 
ment ; and by those who would deserve the high character of states- 
men or men of reflection, such portions of reading must be sought for 
rather than avoided. 
65 



614 LECTURE XXIX. 

It happens that a work was composed and entirely dedicated to 
this division of our subject by Mirabeau, the celebrated Mirabeau of 
the French Revolution. As he was the son of the marquis who is 
so distinguished amongst the French economists, it was natural for 
him, while resident at Berlin, to turn his attention to the situation of 
Prussia, and to the efforts which the king had made for the reestab- 
lishment and furtherance of the prosperity of his dominions. The 
monarch had, in fact, labored to this effect, but rather after his own 
particular manner, as one used to threaten and command, as a mon- 
arch rather than as a philosopher ; and therefore the work of INIira- 
beau, which is dra^vn up according to the principles of the modern 
system of political economy, is generally occupied in finding fault. 
But it is interesting and valuable, even from its very nature, — even 
from the circumstance of its being a critique, by a disciple of the new 
school of pohtical economy, on the labors of a statesman of the very 
highest natural talents, proceeding upon the principles of the old. It 
may be said, indeed, that we cannot now follow the author of this 
work through all the laborious investigations which he exhibits. This 
may be admitted ; but when proper allowance has been made for this 
consideration, abundant matter will remain to which no such objection 
can be offered, and quite sufficient to satisfy the reader even in those 
particulars in which the representations of Mirabeau cannot now be 
examined. When the results at which he arrives are such as might, 
on general grounds, be expected, it seems unnecessary to hesitate 
about their propriety, or to deny him his conclusions. 

The work of Mirabeau (Mirabeau on the Prussian Monarchy) em- 
braces every topic that can excite your curiosity or need occupy your 
reflection with respect to Prussia or its monarch, its agriculture, its 
commerce, its military system, the efforts of the king on these sub- 
jects, and on its laws, its systems of education, and many others. 
Mirabeau, while criticizing the labors of Frederic, naturally throws 
out his own opinions on all the important concerns that can interest 
a statesman ; and as a study for a statesman and a political pliiloso- 
pher, I recommend it to your attention. You cannot expect to ac- 
cede to the views of a man of hcentious, daring mind like this, but 
you may consider his work as a study, as a lesson in pohtical science. 
Many observations are made in these volumes respecting the nature 
and strength of the Prussian and Austrian monarchies, that might 
have taught some most useful lessons to our own ministers and to 
those of our alhes at a subsequent period, during the late great revo- 
lutionary wars with France. 

The first book, at least, of iNIirabeau's work may be read, and the 
general conclusion or summary of the whole. The general impres- 
sion from these two will be, that the work is the work of a statesman, 
and deserves the study of a statesman, and the student may then de- 
termine whether he will or will not consult the intermediate volumes. 



PRUSSIA AND MARIA THERESA. 515 

I have drawn up a lecture on this work of Mirabeau, but omit it, for 
it would be tedious to some and unnecessary to others. The Note- 
book on the table may, however, be consulted. 

But to form a proper estimate of the character of Frederic and of 
this period of history, it is necessary that the student should acquaint 
liimself with the situation and merits of his great political opponent, 
]\Iaria Theresa. It is in this manner only that the real odiousness 
of Frederic can be at all understood ; and a more disgusting picture 
of what is called the ambition of princes cannot be easily pointed out 
than was exhibited in the conduct of this celebrated monarch ; at a 
moment, too, when he himself had just begun to reign ; when he was 
himself only about the age of thirty, and when the queen was young, 
in the full possession of every female attraction, and summoned, 
amidst all the inexperience of three-and-twenty, without a counsellor 
of ability near her, to undertake the administration of the dominions 
of the house of Austria. 

A very sufficient idea may be formed of this very interesting part 
of the general subject by a reference to the work of Mr. Coxe. The 
subject may be considered as opening* in the sixteenth chapter, 
about the close of the Ufe of the emperor Charles the Sixth, the father 
of Maria Theresa. An account is given of the situation of the Eu- 
ropean powers ; and in the seventeenth chapter, of the young king 
of Prussia, and of his father, Frederic William, with the death of 
the emperor. In the eighteenth chapter, Maria Theresa ascends 
the throne of her ancestors, — possessed, it seems, of a command- 
ing figure, (I quote the words of Mr. Coxe from different para- 
graphs,) great beauty, animation and sweetness of countenance, a 
pleasing tone of voice, fascinating manners, and uniting feminine 
grace with a strength of understanding and an intrepidity above her 
sex. But her treasury contained only one hundred thousand florins, 
and these claimed by the empress dowager ; her array, exclusive of 
the troops in Italy and the Low Countries, did not amount to thirty 
thousand effective men ; a scarcity of provisions and great discontent 
existed in the capital ; rumors were circulated that the government 
was dissolved, that the Elector of Brunswick was hourly expected to 
take possession of the Austrian territories ; apprehensions were enter- 
tained of the distant provinces, — that the Hungarians, supported by 
the Turks, might revive the elective monarchy ; different claimants 
on the Austrian succession were expected to arise ; besides, the Elec- 
tor of Bavaria, the Elector of Cologne, and the Elector Palatine were 
evidently hostile ; the ministers themselves, while the queen was her- 

* The references which follow are applicable only to tlie original quarto edition of 
Coxe (London, 1807), Vol. ii., which is now rarely to be met with, at least in this 
country. For the convenience of tlic student, it may be mentioned, therefore, tluit the 
chapters here named, xvi., xvii.. and xviii., corres])ond respectively to chapters xcv., 
xcvi., and xcvii. in the second and subsequent editions. — N. 



516 LECTURE XXIX. 

self without experience or knowledge of business, were timorous, de- 
sponding, irresolute, or worn out with age. To these ministers, says 
Mr. Robinson, in his despatches to the English court, " the Turks 
seemed already in Hungary, the Hungarians themselves in arms, the 
Saxons in Bohemia, the Bavarians at the gates of Vienna, and France 
the soul of the whole." The Elector of Bavaria, indeed, did not con- 
ceal his claims to the kingdom of Bohemia and the Austrian domin- 
ions ; and, finally, while the queen had scarcely taken possession of 
her throne, a new claimant appeared in the person of Frederic of 
Prussia, who acted with " such consummate address and secrecy" 
(as it is called by the historian), that is, with such unprincipled 
hypocrisy and cunning, that his designs were scarcely even suspected 
when his troops entered the Austrian dominions. 

Silesia was the province which he resolved, in the present helpless 
situation of the young queen, to wrest from the house of Austria. 
He revived some antiquated claims on parts of that duchy. The 
subject is discussed in different writers, and in the notes of Coxe. 
The ancestors of Maria Theresa had not behaved handsomely to the 
ancestors of Frederic, and the young queen was now to become a 
lesson to all princes and states of the real wisdom that always belongs 
to the honorable and scrupulous performance of all public engage- 
ments. Little or nothing, however, can be urged in favor of Fred- 
eric. Prescription must be allowed at length to justify possession in 
cases not very flagrant. The world cannot be perpetually disturbed 
by the squabbles and collisions of its rulers ; and the justice of his 
cause was, indeed, as is evident from all the circumstances of the 
case, and his own writings, the last and the least of all the many fu- 
tile reasons which he alleged for the invasion of the possessions of 
Maria Theresa, the heiress of the Austrian dominions, young, beauti- 
ful, and unoffending, but inexperienced and unprotected.. 

The common robber has sometimes the excuse of want ; banditti, in 
a disorderly country, may pillage, and, when resisted, murder ; but 
the crimes of men, even atrocious as these, are confined at least to a 
contracted space, and their consequences extend not beyond a limit- 
ed period. It was not so with Frederic. The outrages of his ambi- 
tion were to be followed up by an immediate war. He could never 
suppose, that, even if he succeeded in getting possession of Silesia, 
the house of Austria could ever forget the insult and the injury that 
had thus been received ; he could never suppose, though Maria The- 
resa might have no protection from his cruelty and injustice, that this 
illustrious house would never again have the power, in some way or 
other, to avenge their wrongs. One war, therefore, even if success- 
ful, was not to be the only consequence ; succeeding wars were to be 
expected ; long and inveterate jealousy and hatred were to follow ; 
and he and his subjects were, for a long succession of j^ears, to be 
put to the necessity of defending, by unnatural exertions, what had 



PRUSSIA AND MARIA THERESA. 517 

been acquired (if acquired) by his own unprincipled ferocity. Such 
were the consequences that were fairly to be expected. What, in 
fact, took place ? 

The seizure of this province of Silesia was first supported by 
a war, then by a revival of it, then by the di-eadful Seven Years' 
War. Near a million of men perished on the one side and on 
the other. Every measure and movement of the king's administra- 
tion flowed as a direct consequence from this original aggression : 
his military system, the necessity of rendering his kingdom one 
of the first-rate powers of Europe, and, in short, all the long train 
of his faults, his tyrannies, and his crimes. We will cast a momen- 
tary glance on the opening scenes of this contest between the two 
houses. 

As a preparatory step to his invasion of Silesia, the king sent a 
message to the Austrian court. " I am come," said the Prussian 
envoy to the husband of Maria Theresa, " with safety for the house 
of Austria in one hand, and the imperial crown for your Royal High- 
ness in the other. The troops and money of my master are at the 
service of the queen, and cannot fail of being acceptable at a time 
when she is in want of both, and can only depend on so considerable 
a prince as the king of Prussia, and his alHes, the maritime powers 
and Russia. As the king, my master, from the situation of his do- 
minions, will be exposed to great danger from this aUiance, it is 
hoped, that, as an indemnification, the queen of Hungary will not 
ofi"er him less than the whole duchy of Silesia." " Nobody," he 
added, " is more firm in his resolutions than the king of Prus- 
sia : he must and will enter Silesia ; once entered, he must and 
will proceed ; and if not secured by the immediate cession of that 
province, his troops and money will be oftered to the Electors of 
Saxony and Bavaria." Such were the king's notifications to Maria 
Theresa. Soon after, in a letter to the same Duke of Loraine, 
the husband of Maria Theresa, " My heart," says Frederic, (for he 
wrote as if he conceived he had one,) " My heart," says Frederic, 
" has no share in the mischief which my hand is doing to your 
court." 

The feelings of the young queen may be easily imagined, powerful 
in the qualities of her understanding, with all the high sensibilities 
which are often united to a commanding mind, and educated in all 
the lofty notions which have so miiformly characterized her illustrious 
house. She resisted ; but her arms proved in the event unsuccessful. 
She was not prepared ; and even if she had been, the combmation was 
too wide and powerful against her. According to the plan of her 
enemies, more particularly of France (her greatest enemy), Bo- 
hemia and Upper Austria, spite of all her efforts, were likely to be 
assig-ned to the Elector of Bavaiia ; Moravia and Upper Silesia to the 
Elector of Saxony ; Lower Silesia and the country of Glatz to the 

RR 



518 LECTURE XXIX. 

king of Prussia ; Austria and Lombarcly * to Spain ; and some compen- 
sation to be allotted to tlie king of Sardinia. 

It was therefore, at last, necessary to detach the king of Prussia 
from the general combination by some important sacrifice. The suf- 
ferings, the agonies, of the poor queen were extreme. Lord Hynd- 
ford, on the part of England as a mediating power, prevailed on the 
helpless Maria Theresa to abate something of her lofty spirit, and 
make some offers to the king. " At the beginning of the war," said 
Frederic, " I might have been contented with this proposal, but not 
now. Shall I again give the Austrians battle, and drive them out of 
Silesia ? You will then see that I shall receive other proposals. At 
present I must have four duchies, and not one. — Do not, my lord," 
said the king, " talk to me of magnanimity ; a prince ought first to 
consult his own interests. I am not averse to peace ; but I expect 
to have four duchies, and will have them." 

At a subsequent period, the same scene was to be renewed, and 
Mr. Robinson, the English ambassador, who was very naturally capti- 
vated with the attractions and spirit of Maria Theresa, endeavoured 
to rouse her to a sense of her danger. " Not only for political rea- 
sons," replied the queen, " but from conscience and honor, I will 
not consent to part with much in Silesia. No sooner is one enemy 
satisfied than another starts up ; another, and then another, must be 
contented, and all at my expense." " You must yield to the hard 
necessity of the times," said Mr. Robinson. " What wovild I not 
give, except in Silesia?" replied the impatient queen. "Let him 
take all we have in Gelderland ; and if he is not to be gained by that 
sacrifice, others may. Let the king, your master, only speak to the 
Elector of Bavaria ! 0, the king, your master, — let him only 
march ! let him march only ! " 

But England could not be prevailed upon to declare war. The 
dangers of Maria Theresa became more and more imminent, and a 
consent to further offers was extorted from her. " I am afraid," said 
Mr. Robinson, " some of these proposals will be rejected by the 
king." " I wish he may reject them," said the queen. " Save 
Limbourg, if possible, were it only for the quiet of my conscience. 
God knows how I shall answer for the cession, having sworn to the 
states of Brabant never to alienate any part of their country." 

Mr. Robinson, who was an enthusiast in the cause of the queen, is 
understood to have made some idle experiment of his own eloquence 
on the king of Prussia ; to have pleaded her cause in their next inter- 
view ; to have spoken, not as if he was addressing a cold-hearted, bad 
man, but as if speaking in the House of Commons of his own country, 
in the assembly of a free people, with generosity in their feelings and 
uprightness and honor in their hearts. The king, in all the malignant 

* So in all the previous editions; but obviously a misprint for Austrian Lombardy. 
See Coxe, Cli. xcix. — N. 



PRUSSIA AND MARIA THERESA. 519 

security of triumphant power, in all the composed consciousness of 
gi'eat intellectual talents, affected to return him eloquence for elo- 
quence ; said his ancestors would rise out of their tombs to reproach 
him, if he abandoned the rights that had been transmitted to him ; 
that he could not live with reputation, if he lightly abandoned an 
enterprise which had been the first act of his reign ; that he would 
sooner be crushed with his whole army, &c., &c. And then, descend- 
ing from his oratorical elevation, declared that he would noio " not 
only have the four duchies, but all Lower Silesia, with the town of 
Breslau. If the queen does not satisfy me in six weeks, I will have 
four duchies more. They who want peace will give me what I Avant. 
I am sick of ultimatums ; I will hear no more of them. My part is 
taken ; I again repeat my demand of all Lower Silesia. This is my 
final answer, and I will give no other." He then abruptly broke off 
the conference, and left Mr. Robinson to his own reflections. 

The situation of the young queen now became truly deplorable. 
The king of Prussia was making liimself the entire master of Silesia ; 
two French armies poured over the countries of Germany ; the Elec- 
tor of Bavaria, joined by one of them, had pushed a body of troops 
within eight miles of Vienna, and the capital had been summoned to 
surrender. The king of Sardinia threatened hostihties ; so did the 
Spanish army. The Electors of Saxony, Cologne, and Palatine join- 
ed the grand confederacy ; and abandoned by all her allies but Great 
Britain, without treasure, without an army, and without ministers, she 
appealed, or rather fled for refuge and compassion, to her subjects in 
Hungary. 

These subjects she had at her accession concihated by taking the 
oath which had been abolished by her ancestor Leopold, the confirma- 
tion of their just rights, privileges, and approved customs. She had 
taken this oath at her accession, and she was now to reap the benefit 
of that sense of justice and real magnanimity which she had display- 
ed, and which, it may fairly be pronounced, sovereigns and govern- 
ments will always find it their interest, as well as their duty, to dis- 
play, while the human heart is constituted, as it has always been, 
proud and eager to acknowledge with gratitude and affection the 
shghtest condescensions of kings and princes, the sUghtcst marks of 
attention and benevolence in those who are illustrious by their bii'th 
or elevated by their situation. 

When Maria Theresa had first proposed to repair to these subjects, 
a suitor for their protection, the gray-headed politicians of her court 
had, it seems, assured her that she could not possibly succeed ; that 
the Hungarians, when the Pragmatic Sanction had been proposed to 
them by her father, had declared that they were accustomed to be 
governed only by men ; and that they would seize the opportunity of 
withdrawing from her rule, and from their allegiance to the house of 
Austria. 



520 LECTURE XXIX. 

Maria Theresa, young and generous and high-spirited herself, had 
confidence in human virtue. She repaired to Hungary ; she sum- 
moned the states of the Diet ; she entered the hall, clad in deep 
mourning ; habited herself in the Hungarian dress ; placed the crown 
of St. Stephen on her head, the scymitar at her side ; showed her sub- 
jects that she could herself cherish and venerate whatever was dear 
and venerable in their sight ; separated not herself in her sympathies 
and opinions from those whose sympathies and opinions she was to 
awaken and direct ; traversed the apartment with a slow and majestic 
step, ascended the tribune whence the sovereigns had been accustom- 
ed to harangue the states, committed to her chancellor the detail of 
her distressed situation, and then herself addressed them in the lan- 
guage which was familiar to them, the immortal language of Rome, 
which was not now for the first time to be employed against the enter- 
prises of injustice and the wrongs of the oppressor. " Agitur de 
regno Hungarise," said the queen, " de persona nostra, prolibus nos- 
tris et corona ; ab omnibus derelicti, unice ad inclytorum statuum 
fidelitatem, arma et Hungarorum priscam virtutem confugimus." * 

To the cold and relentless ambition of Frederic, to a prince whose 
heart had withered at thirty, an appeal like this had been made in 
vain ; but not so to the free-born warriors, who saw no possessions to 
be coveted like the conscious enjoyment of honorable and generous 
feelings, — no fame, no glory, like the character of the protectors of 
the helpless and the avengers of the innocent. Youth, beauty, and 
distress obtained that triumph which, for the honor of the one sex, it 
is to be hoped will never be denied to the merits and afilictions of the 
other. A thousand swords leaped from their scabbards, and attested 
the unbought generosity and courage of untutored nature. " Moria- 
mur pro rege nostro, Mai'ia Theresa ! " was the voice that resounded 
through the hall, — " Moriamur pro rege nostro, Maria Theresa .! " 
The queen, who had hitherto preserved a calm and dignified deport- 
ment, burst into tears (I tell but the facts of history). Tears start- 
ed to the eyes of Maria Theresa, when standing before her heroic de- 
fenders, — those tears which no misfortunes, no suffering, would have 
drawn from her in the presence of her enemies and oppressors. 
"Moriamur pro rege nostro, Maria Theresa!" was again and again 
heard. The voice, the shout, the acclamation, that reechoed around 
her, and enthusiasm and frenzy in her cause, were the necessary ef- 
fect of this union of every dignified sensibiUty which the heart can 
acknowledge and the understanding honor. 

It is not always that in history we can pursue the train of events, 
and find our moral feelings gratified as we proceed ; but in general 

* " The business before you," said the queen, " aflfects the kingdom of Hungary, our 
royal person, our issue, and our crown ; deserted on all sides, it is to the illustrious at- 
tachment of the states, to the arms and the long-tried valor of the Hungarians, that we 
now fly for assistance." 



PRUSSIA AND MARIA THERESA. 521 

■we may. Philip the Second overpowered not the Low Countries, nor 
Louis, Holland ; and even on this occasion, of the distress and danger 
of Maria Theresa, we may find an important, though not a perfect 
and complete, triumph. The resolutions of the Hungarian Diet were 
supported by the nation ; Croats, Pandours, Sclavonians, flocked to 
the royal standard, and they struck terror into the disciplined armies 
of Germany and France. The genius of the great General Keven- 
huller was called into action by the queen ; Vienna was put into a 
state of defence ; divisions began to arise among the queen's enemies ; 
a sacrifice was at last made to Frederic, — he was bought off by the 
cession of Lower Silesia and Breslau ; and the queen and her generals, 
thus obtaining a respite from this able and enterprising robber, were 
enabled to direct, and successfully direct, their efforts against the re- 
maining hosts of plunderers that had assailed her. France, that with 
her usual pei-fidy and atrocity had summoned every surrounding power 
to the destruction of the house of Austria, in the moment of the help- 
lessness and inexperience of the new sovereign, — France was at least, 
if Frederic was not, defeated, disappointed, and disgraced. 

The remaining pages of Coxe, to the end of his volume, are not less 
worthy of perusal. The administration of Maria Theresa occupies the 
greater part of it ; and the interest that belongs to a character like 
hers, of strong feelings and great abiUties, never leaves the narrative, 
of which she is, in fact, the licroine. The student cannot expect that 
he should always approve the conduct or the sentiments that but too 
naturally flowed from qualities like these, when found in a princess 
like Maria Theresa, — a princess placed in situations so fitted to be- 
tray her into violence and even rancor, — a princess who had been 
a first-rate sovereign of Europe at four-and-twenty, and who had never 
been admitted to that moral discipline to which ordinary mortals, who 
act in the presence of their equals, are so happily subjected. That 
the loss of Silesia should never be forgotten, — the king of Prussia 
never forgiven, — that his total destruction would have been the high- 
est gratification to her, can be no object of surprise. The mixed 
character of human nature seldom affords, when all its propensities 
are drawn out by circumstances, any proper theme for the entire and 
unqualified praises of a moralist ; but every thing is pardoned to 
Maria Theresa, when she is compared, as she must constantly be, 
with her great rival, Frederic. Errors and faults we can overlook, 
when they are those of our common nature ; intractabihty, impetuosi- 
ty, lofty pride, superstition, even bigotry, an impatience of wrongs, 
furious and implacable, — all these, the faults of Maria Theresa, may 
be forgiven, may at least be understood. But Frederic had no merits, 
save courage and ability ; these, great as they are, cannot reconcile 
us to a character with Avhich we can have no s_ympathy, — of which 
the beginning, the middle, and the end, the foundation and the essence, 
was entire, unceasing, inextinguishable, concentrated selfishness. 

m RR* 



522 LECTURE XXIX. 

I do not detain mj hearers with any further reference to Maria 
Theresa. She long occupies the pages of history, — the interesting 
and captivating princess, — the able and still attractive queen, — 
the respected and venerable matron, grown prudent by long famil- 
iarity with the uncertainty of fortune, and sinking into dechne amid 
the praises and blessings of her subjects. From the books and me- 
moirs which I have mentioned every particular may be drawn which 
can be necessary to enable you to form your own estimate. Indeed, 
all the relevant and important observations connected with her history 
and her character will be furnished you either by Coxe or by Towers, 
or, lastly, by the king of Prussia himself. 

I must now say a word, and but a word, on the wars of this par- 
ticular era. Mr. Coxe, who prides himself on the miUtary part of 
his History, may be consulted with respect to the Seven Years' War. 
Of all others this war has been the most celebrated, from the variety 
of its events, the military science displayed, and, above all, the ex- 
traordinary efforts of military genius exliibited by the king of Prussia. 
They who wish to pursue the subject farther than I can conceive 
necessary to any but professional men may refer to the book of Gen- 
eral Lloyd, a work of character, and dedicated to the consideration of 
this part of the subject. Archenholz you will see quoted by Coxe, 
and it is, I understand, a work of great authority on the Continent. 

I have not adverted to a most important part of the history of 
Frederic, — the partition of Poland ; for I cannot yet conveniently 
approach times so near our own. But I may mention that my hear- 
ers will hereafter be referred by me chiefly to the Annual Register 
for 1771, 1772, 1773. The account there given is supposed to be 
drawn up by Burke. After all, the situation of Poland was such as 
almost to afford an exception, perhaps a single exception, in the his- 
tory of mankind, to those general rules of justice that are so essen- 
tial to the great community of nations. I speak this with great hesi- 
tation, and you must consider the point yourselves. I do not profess 
to have thoroughly considered it myself. There has lately appeared 
one of Sir James Mackintosh's valuable articles in the Edinburgh 
Review* on the subject of Poland ; and you will in him always find a 
master of moral and political science worthy of every attention you 
can bestow. 

I have now mentioned all the books I consider necessary for your 
information. There are others wliich I do not think necessary, but 
which you may be led to consult from their connection with Frederic. 
I allude more particularly to parts of his own works, — his corre- 
spondence with the wits and philosophers of the day, more especially 
with Voltaire, whose reception, adventures, and final escape from the 
court of Prussia become almost a serious part of the history of the 
monarch. 

* Edinburgh Review for November, 1822. — N. 



PRUSSIA AND MARIA THERESA. 523 

They who Avish to know the nature of the speculations and rehgious 
opinions of Frederic, and the restlessness of his spirit of proselytism, 
may find matter enougli for either their amusement or instruction in 
the ^Memoirs of Thiebault. They will, at the same time, be not a 
little entertained by observing the invincible patience, the sevenfold 
shield of prudence and reserve, under which the attacks of the mon- 
arch were sustained by Thidbault, the most wary of dependants and 
the most calm of observers. 

But with respect to the king's correspondence with Voltaire, as I 
am thus obliged to allude to it, as well as to the works of Frederic 
himself, I cannot but recommend it to the student to hesitate and 
pause before he ever presumes to wander over the writings of these 
celebrated men, or indeed visit at all the unhealthy regions of French 
hterature. Of course I do not speak of the great dramas, or of the 
grave or of the important works to be found in it. What I now say 
must be interpreted reasonably ; I speak of the lighter works, and of 
those that profess chiefly to entertain ; and speakmg of such parts of 
the French literature, I would recommend it to the English student 
to prepare himself for the climate and company he will there meet, 
by first acquainting himself, and that most thoroughly, with the ex- 
cellent authors that dignify the literature of our own country. John- 
son and Paley, Locke and Butler, immediately occur as the great 
masters of moral, metaphysical, and religious instruction, — Locke, 
the votary of truth, and Paley, the very genius of good sense. Others 
might be mentioned, if this were the proper place to advise, or if I were 
worthy to be the adviser on subjects so important. But some adviser 
is necessary, and some preparation is necessary, before this depart- 
ment of very fiishionable reading (tlie French literature) is entered 
upon. Ground must be secured upon which the great bulwarks of 
the understanding and the heart must be first erected and their foun- 
dations deeply laid. Already, and ere we have yet descended to the 
still more modern parts of history, we have been brought into contact 
with Voltaire and Frederic, and the wits and philosophers of their 
school. Whatever may be the merit, and whatever may be the 
praise, — the praise of genius undoubtedly, which cannot be denied 
to many of the popular writers of the French nation, — it is not, I 
think, too much to say, that the general effect of their works is al- 
ways to withdraw the mind from that sound and virtuous state in 
which our own writers have left it. In the conversation and coitc- 
spondence of Frederic the student will find much of what is well fitted 
to give him intellectual pleasure, and much also, I fear, that can have 
no tendency but ultimately to destroy all intellectual pleasure what- 
ever. He will find, for instance, elegant literature, liveliness and 
good taste, wit, sententiousness, knowledge of human nature and of 
the world, interesting allusions to men who have made a figure in it ; 
but he will also find impudent ridicule, gross ribaldry, systematic ir- 



524 LECTURE XXIX. 

religion, and a sort of unceasing, inveterate hostility exercised on 
subjects and names that the student himself has always been ac- 
customed (and very properly) to consider with sentiments of serious- 
ness and reverence. These are but mixed and opposite ingredients 
to be presented to a reader in the same work. How are we to hope 
that the mind, that the youthful mind, is to be only improved by the 
good, and not injured by the evil ? 

It is, therefore, Avith no little satisfaction that I can assure my hear- 
er that he need not approach these volumes as a reader of history. 
There is in them little or nothing of an historical nature. The corre- 
spondence with Voltaire, which is the most likely to attract your 
notice, begins with the time when Frederic was under the displeasure 
of his father, and finding refuge from his tyranny in the pleasures of 
study and the consciousness of his own improving talents and matur- 
ing knowledge. Voltaire was his idol ; and Frederic, the presump- 
tive heir of the Prussian monarchy, and evidently possessed of an in- 
quiring and powerful mind, might very naturally be in turn the idol 
of Voltaire. The praises, however, that are interchanged between 
the two correspondents soon disgust the modest and reasonable temper- 
ament of an English reader, and they never cease more or less to dis- 
gust, from the first opening to the last page of the correspondence. 
In one shape or another, these compliments constitute a large portion 
of the whole ; observations on Hterature, and railings against super- 
stition, the remainder ; and by superstition is always meant the Chris- 
tian rehgion. The meritorious part of Voltaire's letters consists in 
the protestations that he does not fail to make against wars, — pro- 
testations that are not at all relished by the king. The king confines 
himself to general declamations against the stupidity and folly of man- 
kind, — observations that come with no very good grace from a man 
who never turned their stupidity and folly to any purposes but those 
of bloodshed and destruction, for the sake of his own personal aggran- 
dizement. The talents of the king are, no doubt, very clearly seen 
in these letters, and he seems at last to write to Voltaire with all the 
freedom and decision of one who was his equal in intellectual powers, 
not his pupil. But it is in no other way than as an exhibition of 
literary talents that these letters can be of use to any reader. Poli- 
tics are never mentioned but in a slight and superficial manner. The 
historian, even the speculator on human nature on the larger scale, 
can glean but little ; nothing of any consequence about the first in- 
vasion of Silesia ; little about the Seven Years' War, — little but 
this, that the king was evidently pressed to the utmost, and that he 
became at last quite sullen and fierce, as the dangers of his situation 
gathered more and more gloomy around him. Even of his amusing 
quarrel with Voltaire only the symptoms appear, not the particulars, 
and these but in two letters. The correspondence afterwards con- 
tinues almost as if no quarrel had happened ; the two wits were, from 



PRUSSIA AND MARIA THERESA. 525 

their talents and a coincidence of sentiment on certain important 
points, quite necessary to each other ; and, in a word, from the whole 
of the intercourse that subsisted between these celebrated men, I 
know little of an edifying nature that can be offered to the consider- 
ation of the student but this, — that the regard which they expressed 
for each other before they met, though originating in the proper 
sources of regard, personal merit and kindred talents, was still of 
too extravagant a nature to be properly secured from uncertainty and 
disappointment. Now this is in itself edifying, for this I conceive 
will always be the case. Friendship between men, when it deserves 
the name, is the slow growth of mutual respect, is of a nature calm 
and simple, professes nothing and exacts nothing, — is, above all, 
careful to be considerate in its expectations, and to keep at a distinct 
distance from the romantic, the visionary, and the impossible. The 
torrid zone, with its heats and its tempests, is left to the inexperience 
of youth, or to the love that exists between the sexes ; the temperate, 
with its sunshine and its zephyrs, cheerful noon and calm evening, 
is the proper and the only region of manly friendship. 

But if there be nothing to edify in the correspondence of the king, 
or even in those parts of Thi(3bault which exhibit his speculative and 
religious opinions, there is much in his example that is of a most in- 
jurious nature. Frederic will be seen in the common course of these 
historical narratives Hving a life of activity and duty, at least of ex- 
ertion and usefulness, as he believed, to his people, and dying at a 
very advanced age tranquil and unmoved, not indeed with the hope 
and humble confidence and pious anticipations, but certainly with aU 
the composure, of a religious man. In all this there is nothing to 
edify, there is much to mislead the mind. The airy gayety and care- 
lessness of skepticism is never without its attraction to the light-heart- 
edness of youth. Fearlessness, and courage, and tranquillity, in 
scenes the most appalling, the field of battle or the bed of death, ex- 
tort from us our involuntary respect, whatever be the person or the 
cause. The example of Frederic may therefore be well fitted to have 
its influence, and that influence one of a very unfortunate and melan- 
choly kind ; it may appear to recommend to our choice the fascina- 
tions and privileges of skepticism. 

But skepticism, it must be remembered, is one of those spirits that 
change their guise as we advance along in their company. This is 
the fiend that " expects his evening prey." Extraordinary men like 
Frederic, long conspicuous in the eyes of mankind, and knowing 
themselves to be so, long habituated to the exercise of self-command 
in seasons of the most imminent danger, may be consistent to the last, 
and never lose that composure and fortitude which have so uniformly 
through life elevated them above the level of their felloAV-creatures. 
Their reward is of this world, and they obtain it. But Avhat is this 
to the rest of mankind ? Avhat is it to us common mortals ? what is 



526 LECTURE XXIX. 

to us the example of Frederic ? His example is nothing, and his 
opinions are nothing, and his death-bed is nothing. Placed as we 
are, not on thrones and at the head of armies, and to be gazed at by 
mankind, now and in future ages, but in the midst of our own un- 
noticed rounds of amusements and of business, of pleasures and of 
pains, amid temptations and duties of an ordinary nature, — grow- 
ing to maturity for one short season, flour-ishing for another, fading, 
decaying, visibly dying away for a third, while, in the mean time, we 
at least are well aware that somewhere or other resides some stu- 
pendous Intelligence, in whose presence we thus revolve through the 
appointed vicissitudes of our being, and whose almighty will is then 
once more to be exercised upon our fate in some unknown manner, 
in some new situation, that is as yet impenetrably removed, beyond 
what is therefore to us the aifecting, the anxious, the awful moment 
of our dissolution, — what is to us the example of Frederic ? His 
example is nothing, and his opinions are nothing, and his death-bed 
is nothing ; they are nothing, they are worse than nothing. 

I have made these observations on French literature and on the 
skeptical writings of distinguished men, but nothing that I have now • 
said must be interpreted in any manner unfavorable to the great 
interests of truth or the rights of free inquiry. Still less must it be 
supposed that men are to sit in judgment on the religious opinions of 
each other, and decide on the salvation of particular men, of Frederic, 
for instance, or Voltaire. To his own Master must each individual 
stand or fall, and to Him alone be responsible for the use of those 
faculties and opportunities with which he has been intrusted. Men 
must also be allowed the publication of their opinions, if this be done 
with decency and seriousness ; for the learned can have no right to 
say that they are in possession of the truth, still less can the unlearn- 
ed, unless every grave man can offer his opinions, be they what they 
may, though not to the multitude, at least to grave men like himself. 
Such are the principles which I conceive to be fundamentally neces- 
sary to the proper cultivation of religious truth, and of all truth. I 
must not be supposed for a moment to entertain the slightest wish to 
disturb or violate them ; but when all this has been admitted, distinc- 
tions may still be made between different descriptions of literature, 
different systems of opinion, and different modes of reUgious inquiry. 
And when we are made thus casually to approach, in the course of 
our historical reading, a very particular department of modern litera- 
ture, and in reality the most awful subjects that can be presented to 
our thoughts, it may be competent for me, it may be necessary, to 
compare and contrast, at least in the passing manner I have now 
done, the great body of the more entertaining, popular, and modern 
French writers with our o^vn, and to require that the one should be 
well examined and digested, and that before the other be even at all 
looked at, — the more so because the human mind, when adverting 



GEORGE THE THIRD. 527 

to serious, to moral, and religious subjects, is unhappily affected, par- 
ticularly in early life, by many other considerations besides the just 
and salutary impressions of reason and of truth. 

Such are the books and memoirs to which I would -wish to refer 
the student, while he is endeavouring to appreciate one of the most 
distinguished characters of history, and the events with which that 
character is connected. The mass of reading I have mentioned is 
very considerable, — Gillies, Towers, Thiebault, Frederic's own ac- 
count of his pohtical transactions, Mirabeau, and Coxe ; and to these 
I have added a very amusing work by Wraxall, — his ]\Iemoirs of 
the Court of Berlin. But the general reader may, I think, be satis- 
fied with Towers and Coxe ; though much of Thiebault, of the ac- 
count of Frederic, and of Mirabeau, ought, I think, to be added by 
those who would fit themselves for the high character of men of intel- 
Hgence and of statesmen. 

But I must also mention, that by the general reader, and by every 
reader, the account that is given of Thidbault's book in the Edinburgh 
Review for October, 1805, should also be considered. It is always 
my wish to occupy as little of your time in this place as possible, and 
never to offer you imperfectly what you may easily read properly de- 
hvered to you by the author himself. For these reasons I do not 
now stop to lay before you many of the observations wliich had oc- 
curred to me on the subject of Frederic, because I really have found 
them anticipated by the Edinburgh reviewer. I depend, however, 
upon your reading them in the Review, otherwise my lecture will 
want a part which I should have supplied myself, and without wliich 
it will be, even in my own conception, most materially defective. I 
must confess, too, that my dislike of Frederic would be thus disap- 
pointed of its gratification. This disUke is so great, that I can even 
bear to throw him, without compunction, as I now do, to the mercy 
of these Northern tormentors. 



LECTURE XXX. 



GEORGE THE THIRD. 



Ix a late lecture, I endeavoured to conduct you through the his- 
tory of the remaining part of the reign of George the Second, the in- 
trigues that took place on the fall of Sir Robert Walpole, the merits 
of the Pelham administration, and of the ministry of Lord Chatham. 



528 LECTURE XXX. 

And I more particularly proposed to you such subjects (the Rebel- 
lion of 1745 and others, drawn partly from the events of the thne, 
and partly from Debrett's Debates) as I thought best fitted to supply 
your minds with proper materials of philosophic and political reflec- 
tion. 

But before I proceed to our next subject, the reign of his present 
Majesty, I must observe, that, as you read our history down from 
the Revolution to the present time, more especially as you read the 
debates in ParUament, you will be repeatedly called upon to exercise 
your opinion upon reasonings and pubhc measures that relate to our 
national debt, to taxes, excises, and topics of this nature ; and it is 
desirable, as a preparation for such reading, that you should acquire 
some notion, as soon as possible, of the nature of a national debt and 
its consequences, — in short, become acquainted with the great sub- 
jects of political economy. I should therefore be well pleased, if I 
could refer you to some book or treatise where elementary explana- 
tions respecting such subjects might be found ; but I know of no such 
book or treatise. The great work of Adam Smith is not an element- 
ary book, — very far from it ; and your best chance of understanding 
it is, to read of each chapter as much as you can, then go to the next 
chapter, and so on ; and when you have got to the end of the book, 
begin the book again ; and you will at length comprehend the whole 
sufficiently for any general purpose. I have lately seen a treatise 
by Mr. Boileau, which I hoped I might recommend to you on this 
occasion ; but I do not think that it will be found either more simple 
or more intelligible than Adam Smith's original work, from which it 
is avowedly borrowed. 

Since I wrote what I am now delivering, I have met with a book 
lately pubhshed, — Conversations on Political Economy. This ap- 
peared to me the elementary book that was Avanted ; and though there 
is a doubtful point or two in the more profound parts of the science, 
which is, I believe, rather mistaken, still the work seemed to me a 
work of merit, and fitted for your instruction. In this opinion I 
found Mr. Malthus, and Mr. Pryme, our own lecturer on political 
economy, concumng, and therefore I think myself authorized to rec- 
ommend it to you. 

I cannot detain you with observations on political economy ; I do 
not lecture on political economy, and there is one of the members of 
our University w^ho does, and who, I am sure, from the purest 
motives of endeavouring to do good to his fellow-creatures, has been, 
for some time, soliciting your attention to these most important, but 
grave and somewhat repulsive, subjects. Still, as the plan of my 
lectures is, to assist you, if I can, in reading history for yourselves, 
and as it is quite necessary to the proper comprehension of history 
from the time of the Revolution, that you should have some proper 
notion of at least the nature of a funded debt and of loans, and that 



GEORGE THE THIRD. 529 

immediately, I -will begin tins lecture by a few observations on the 
subject, and by securing your minds, as far as I am able, from some 
of those mistakes and misapprehensions that are to be met with in 
conversation, and even in books and pamphlets which undertake to 
instruct the pubhc. I shall be well employed indeed, if I thus ap- 
prise you of the importance of what may be considered as a new sci- 
ence in the world, the science of political economy. I will begin 
with the most common misapprehension of all. 

Property in the stocks being continually bought and sold, and 
passed from one to another, a continual circulation, as it is called, of 
money is kept up ; and by the practice of funding it is supposed that 
we have, in fact, fabricated to ourselves a species of fictitious wealth, 
which answers all the purposes, and procures to us all the advantages, 
of so much real wealth. 

The easiest reply I can make to this popular error is by shortly 
stating what the nature of the funds really is. The whole mystery is 
no more than this : — A minister wishes to borrow a miUion, we will 
say, for the equipment of an armament; he borrows it, therefore, 
from those who have the money vmoccupied, and he engages that the 
nation shall give them a proper interest for their money for ever : 
their names are therefore written in public books, vnth. the sums 
they have lent ; and these records of the transactions are the funds. 
The books are kept at the bank, where the interest is paid by the 
government ; and these records give each person who belongs to them 
a right to receive such and such sums of interest from the public for 
ever. And these records may be broken into pieces, and transferred 
from one to another: but tliis, and nothing more, is done, when 
stock, as it is called, is bought or sold. 

Money is brought out of society, if I may so speak, and given by 
the person who buys stock to the person Avho holds it, that is, who 
holds one of these rights or records ; and he, after parting with his 
record, returns with the money into society : and so far the money 
has circulated, — it has been given from one man to another ; but 
there is no fabrication of money, or of fictitious wealth. The funds 
are not money, they only represent money, — they represent money 
that has been long ago spent ; but, being the records of these original 
loans, and therefore giving to their o^^^lers a claim on the nation to 
receive interest for ever, they have, no doubt, in themselves a value, 
and may therefore be continually bought and sold ; and this has given 
occasion to all the mystery and confusion that have been noticed. 

A more dangerous error is this : — It is continually affirmed that 
the greatest part of the money which is borrowed for a war is paid 
away to our artisans, our soldiers, and sailors, at our dock-yards, or 
manufactories, head-quarters, &c., &c. ; that it never travels out of 
the island ; that it is never lost by the state ; that it only passes from 
one hand to another ; and that, except when the money is paid out of 
67 ss 



530 LECTURE XXX. 

the kingdom to our soldiers abroad, or our allies, ■^'e are as rich as 
before. This mistake, indeed, the writers on pohtical economy will 
enable you to avoid ; for you ■svill see them make a distinction between 
productive laborers and non-productive laborers, which you will of 
course have to consider. There are certam difficulties introduced 
into this part of the subject by a particular school of reasoners ; but 
the distinction is sufficiently sound for our present purpose, and for 
all intelligible purposes. I shall proceed upon it. 

Suppose we were all soldiers and sailors, that is, non-productive 
laborers, there would evidently be no one to feed and clothe us. To 
this preposterous state of ruin we therefore approach, the more sailors 
and soldiers we raise. The money that is given to them and for them 
is only the medium by means of which food and clothing, arms and 
accoutrements, are transferred to them from those who produce these 
articles. It is not meant to say that soldiers and sailors are useless, 
for they defend us ; or that they deserve not what they receive, for 
they receive but little. All that is urged is, that they can produce 
nothing themselves, and that they must necessarily consume part of 
the produce of those who do ; and that, consequently, the more of 
them we are obliged to maintain for any purpose, whether of offence 
or defence, the poorer we shall be, and the less able to become rich. 
It is not true, therefore, because the money is paid away to our 
soldiers, sailors, public officers, &c., and never goes out of the island, 
that therefore we are not the poorer. And in the former case, that 
of subsidies, loans, &;c., when the money obviously does go out of 
the island, then, indeed, it is allowed by all that we are poorer. In 
these two cases, therefore, the matter is clear, and I shall dismiss 
them. 

Still, some further explanation must be given of the manner in 
which Ave bear our extraordinary loads of taxation. Certainly there 
must be some truth in the popular notion, however vague, that the 
money raised by taxes never goes out of the kingdom, and that there- 
fore we are not poorer. 

I must, therefore, now propose to your thoughts a distinction which 
you must recollect ; it is this : the money originally lent from time to 
time by different moneyed men to government is always to be care- 
fully set apart in your minds from the money that is afterwards paid 
every year by the nation as the interest of it. The money originally 
lent, which the funds are the records of, is money that has been taken 
from the capital of the country ; all this is, therefore, positive loss ; 
it has been spent ; the soldier and his ammunition, the sailor and his 
ship of war, have at length disappeared and are annihilated. These 
were what the money produced ; they are gone. The money has 
been spent, therefore ; we have it not : and if it had not been so 
spent, we should have had it ; it would have been left \\\ society to 
be added to our capital, and thus left to increase our means of pro- 



GEORGE THE THIRD. 631 

duction or gratification. Here is, therefore, a distinct loss, continu- 
ally measured and exhibited by the amount of the national debt. The 
only good that remains is the existence and affluence of those manu- 
facturers that have been employed in furnishing our soldiers and 
sailors with their food, clothing, and implements of war ; all the rest 
is loss. But the same cannot be said of the interest that is every 
year paid in consequence of it. 

You must now consider by whom this interest is paid, and to whom. 
It is paid, more or less, by every man in the kingdom to the an- 
nuitants or shareholders who originally lent the principal. The inter- 
est, then, is paid by one part of society to another part of the same 
society. We have not here an anniliilation and total destruction of 
any thing purchased, as in the former case. The money is not spent 
in soldiers and sailors, in gunpowder and implements of war, in pro- 
visions for their support in foreign countries ; it is not spent on objects 
which immediately perish without producing any tiling but our de- 
fence. The money is now given by society to certain annuitants, and 
this money may be said not to travel out of the island, and in that 
sense not to make us poorer. The very annuitants themselves pay 
their full share to the taxes ; that is, they themselves pay a part of 
that money which they are afterwards themselves again to receive 
back as their interest, receive in their dividends at the bank. 

All this is true, and may contribute to explain to you the manner 
in which we pay so much every year, and yet survive our expenses. 
But you are by no means to suppose that the quantity of our taxation 
is a matter of little or no consequence. You are not to conceive, as 
is generally done, that, because the interest does not go out of the 
island, it is, therefore, of no consequence how much is drawn from 
the public. It is still a matter of great importance what quanti- 
ty of money is every year levied ; for, to drop for the present our 
former language of productive and unproductive laborers, and to 
adopt language of the most ordinary nature, what is the case before 
us ? The money is taken from one person and given to another. 
Now I may take the money from one person and give it to another, 
and the money may never go out of the island ; but it is of great 
consequence who is the person I take it from, and who is the person 
I give it to. The person I take it from may, and indeed must be, in 
the main, one who lives by his industry ; I must therefore be very 
careful what I take from him, though I give it to his neighbour and 
fellow-citizen ; for otherwise I may materially affect his prosperity, — 
that is, as he is an industrious man, the prosperity of the country. 
The quantity taken is a most material point. I may rc(]uire from 
him so nuich, that I may injure, dispirit, distress, and at length ruin 
him ; and all this, though the money never goes out of the island, and 
is only paid from one to another. 

This leads me to say one word on the subject of taxes. The most 



632 LECTURE XXX. 

useful observation which I can make to you is this : that all taxes are 
paid by men out of their income ; and therefore, whether a person be 
a rich man or a poor man, but more especially in the latter case, his 
situation may be made, by taxation, to vary downwards from cheer- 
fulness and affluence to uncomfortablencss and privations, then to 
penury and ill-humor, and at last to wretchedness and sedition. A 
system of taxation may be prevented, by diiferent causes, from visibly 
producing these very ruinous effects ; but it always tends to produce 
them, and always does produce injury to a certain extent. Though 
its full operation be concealed, the weight is not the less in one scale 
because it is overbalanced by opposing weights in the other. The 
prosperity of a nation under a great system of taxation may be very 
striking and very progressive, yet that progress is not, in the mean 
time, the less restrained and retarded by the secret operation of the 
load which it drags after it. 

But to conclude : as you read the history from the Revolution, you 
will indeed see the national debt continually increasing ; and you will 
observe, in the debates in Parliament, repeated prophecies, that the 
debt must soon destroy us, that the practice of borrowing cannot go 
on, that the taxes are already intolerable, &c., &c. As no such ef- 
fect has taken place, you may be tempted to despise all such prophe- 
cies and their authors, and will then have to despise the first patriots 
and statesmen that our country has produced, and such a writer on 
political economy as Hume. 

You will therefore observe, that, in the first place, it is the moneyed 
interest who lend money to a government, — those who have money, 
for which they are satisfied to receive no more than the interest. 
This description of men, if I may use so violent a metaphor, is con- 
tinually from time to time thrown off from the great circulating wheel 
of the national p-ospenty^ — of the national prospemty, you will ob- 
serve ; and therefore, if the national prosperity declines, they will not 
be found. 

In the second place, you will observe that it is from the produce 
of the land and labor of the community that the interest is to be paid. 
This interest, therefore, depends also upon the prosperity of the coun- 
try. If, therefore, as before, that prosperity declines, the interest 
cannot be paid as it has been before, — not without greater injury 
and distress. 

It happens that the prosperity of England since the Revolution has 
never ceased to be progressive, and this for many reasons which could 
not have been foreseen, and therefore to an extent which could not 
have been expected. Loans, on this account, have been continually 
made, and the interest continually paid. Yet neither are our states- 
men nor our philosophers to be accused of mistaken principles. It 
does not follow, because a loan was made last year, that it can be 
made this year, nor the contrary. The whole is a question of pros- 



GEORGE THE THIRD. 533 

perity, and therefore not a little of mere fact and experiment at the 
time when the loan is wanted, and the interest to be paid ; whether 
there exist at the time those who have money to lend, — whether 
they have arisen in society in consequence of their successful indus- 
try ; and again, whether there exist a sufficient number of individu- 
als in society who can pay fresh taxes out of their income, — that is, 
whether the new interest wanted can be paid. 

The canker, however, of a state is taxation. We may remember, 
therefore, what Swift says to those who were continually looking for 
his death : — 

" My j^ood companions, never fear ; 
For though you may mistake a year, 
Though your prognostics run too fast, 
They must be vended at last." 

And if Hume were still alive (who is always referred to as a false 
prophet), he would probably not be induced, by any thing that has 
happened since he wrote, either in France or this country, to with- 
draw his observation, his sally of melancholy pleasantry, — that 
" princes and states, fighting and quarrelhng amidst their debts, 
funds, and public mortgages," reminded him of notliing but " a 
match of cudgel-playing fought in a chinarshop." 

At the close of the late lectvu-e, we arrived, as I have observed, at 
the accession of George the Third to the throne, and at the unexpect- 
ed dismission of the great war minister, Mr. Pitt, to make room for a 
nobleman at that time far less knoAvn either in Europe or in England, 
the Earl of Bute. 

The reign has been in part written by Mr. Adolphus, I am given 
to understand, upon much better sources of information than any 
other writer has yet enjoyed. No reign can be properly written till 
the sovereign is no more, and it is possible that important materials 
for the future historian will hereafter be produced. But in the mean 
time the History of Adolphus will naturally be received into your 
studies, and must be mentioned and even recommended by me ; and 
it therefore became my duty to direct my own perusal to this History, 
and ascertain whether it Avas necessary to accompany my recom- 
mendation with any particular remarks. 

I had not proceeded far, before I met with the paragraph which I 
shall now read to you. You will be so good as to mark well every 
word it contains. You will find it a solution of all the material phe- 
nomena relative to cabinets and ministers that have distinguished this 
memorable reign. The passage in Adolphus is this : — 

" The last two monarchs, being foreigners, and opposed by a native 
prince, who had numerous adherents, as well among the people as in 
some of the most illustrious houses, confided a large portion of their 
power to a few distinguished families, in order to secure possession 
of the cro^^^l. These families, strengthened by union and exclusive in- 

ss* 



534 LECTURE XXX. 

fluence, became not only independent of, but in many respects su- 
perior to, the throne. Swayed by a predilection for their Continen- 
tal dominions, the first two sovereigns of the house of Hanover incur- 
red severe animadversions from the members of opposition ; and the 
necessity of frequent justifications, rendering them still more depend- 
ent on the leaders of the ministerial party, reduced them almost to a 
state of pupilage. 

" But the new king [George the Third] , being exempt from foreign 
partialities, ascending the throne at a period when the claims of the 
exiled family were fallen into contempt, was enabled to emancipate 
himself from the restraint to which his ancestors had submitted. The 
Earl of Bute formed the plan of breaking the phalanx which consti- 
tuted and supported the ministry, and of securing the independence 
of the crown, by a moderate exertion of the constitutional prerogative. 
This plan in itself was well conceived and necessary, but the Earl of 
Bute was not a proper person to carry it into effect. He was not 
connected, either by blood or by familiar intercourse, with the leading 
families in England ; he was not versed in the arts of popularity, or 
used to the struggles of Parliamentary opposition ; and his manners 
were cold, reserved, and unconciliating. Prejudices were easily ex- 
cited against him as a native of Scotland, and he could only oppose 
to a popular and triumphant administration, and a long-established 
system, such friends as hope or interest might supply, and the per- 
sonal esteem of the king, which was rendered less valuable by the 
odium attached to the name of favorite." 

I must confess that it was with some pain that I first read this re- 
markable paragraph, and not without some surprise. That the sys- 
tem here described had been really the system of the reign, I had al- 
ways, indeed, conceived ; and that it had been so represented by Mr. 
Burke, so early as the year 1770, I was well aware. But certainly 
I had not expected to see the system avoived by any one, writing, as 
it is understood, on the very best authorities, — still less defended by 
one who proposed to himself the character of an historian of England. 
Yet such is the fact. 

I cannot assent to the propriety of the opinions and principles of 
this writer, and yet I have no other history, — at least, this is the 
most regular history that I have to offer you for your future study. 
The History of Belsham is a work, as I have already mentioned, of 
more merit than would at first sight be supposed. But in the year 
1793, after the breaking out of the French war, it loses the character 
of history, and becomes little more than a political pamphlet ; and 
through the whole of the reign of his present Majesty, it is so written, 
that it must be considered as a statement, whether just or not, but 
certainly only as a statement, on one side of the question, and must 
therefore, at all events, be compared with the statement on the other 
side, that is, with the History of Adolphus. On every account, there- 



GEORGE THE THIRD. 535 

fore, I must present to you the work of Adolphus, and leave it to its 
influence on jour minds. 

But if this, which I have just read, be the paragraph ^Yith Avhich it 
opens, if these be the principles on which it is written, and if the sys- 
tem just described be one Avhich he conceives was reasonably recom- 
mended to the sovereign, I have no alternative but to state what I 
apprehend to be very serious objections to these principles and to 
this system ; and I must do so, however disagreeable may be the dis- 
cussion (as it certainly is) into which I must thus be drawn. The 
leading transactions of the reign, prior to the dispute with the Ameri- 
can colonies, could furnish me, indeed, with no reflections of a more 
pleasing nature than can this paragraph of Adolphus. You will read 
them in the history ; and you must be left to read them, not hear 
them from me ; they scarcely fall witliin my province. But the 
principles of the system on which this or any other reign is conduct- 
ed really come within the description of the more appropriate topics 
of a lecturer on history ; and I shall therefore, on the whole, make 
the ensuing lecture a mere comment on the paragraph I have read. 
And I have only further to observe, that, while you are considering 
such points as Avill necessarily pass in review before us, you will in 
reality be considering the most delicate, curious, and critical ques- 
tions that belong to the English constitution. 

To return, therefore, to the paragraph I have just read. In the 
first place, I should hope that there is a certain air about the plan 
itself, as described by Adolphus, a certain want of proper sentiment, 
that would, to youthful minds Uke yours, be not very congenial. I 
will speak of the necessity of it hereafter ; but in limine, and on the 
first view of it, what is it ? 

The first two monarchs of the Brunswick line, it seems, " confided 
a large portion of their power to a few distinguished families." But 
Avhy ? '' In order to secure possession of the crown." A very ade- 
quate reason, no doubt ; and if they in consequence succeeded in 
their wishes, neither the people of England, nor any princes of that 
Brunswick line, should readily forget their obligation. 

Again, — " Swayed," it seems, "by a predilection for their Con- 
tinental dominions, the first two sovereigns of the house of Hanover 
incurred severe animadversions from the members of opposition ; and 
the necessity of fi-equent justifications, rendering them still more de- 
pendent on the leaders of the ministerial party, reduced them almost 
to a state of pupilage " : that is, I fear, the leaders of this ministerial 
(then the Whig) party not only supported their sovereigns, but did 
so considerably at the hazard of their good name, — supported them 
not only as sovereigns of England, but as electors of Hanover, — in- 
dulged them even in their predilections for their Continental domin- 
ions, and had such merit with their sovereigns, in consequence of 
the sacrifices they thus made, that these sovereigns could not avoid 



536 LECTURE XXX. 

acceding to any wishes they expressed and any measures they pro- 
posed. 

This may be, indeed, the case ; but if it be, it is no very good 
preparation for the statement which Adolphus immediately subjoins. 
" The new king," says he, " being exempt from foreign partiahties, 
ascending the throne at a period when the claims of the exiled family 
were fallen into contempt, was enabled to emancipate himself from 
the restraint to which his ancestors had submitted. The Earl of 
Bute formed the plan of breaking the phalanx," &c., &c. The new 
king might be enabled by these circumstances, no doubt ; but was the 
Earl of Bute therefore justified in advising him thus to emancipate 
himself? So much for the original conception of the plan, which Mr. 
Adolphus has thought well conceived. But was, indeed, this plan so 
necessary as he states it to have been ? You must consider this for 
yourselves. 

You are supposed to be now reading that part of the history of 
England which bears upon this particular point. What was the 
pupilage to which George the First was reduced? Did the Whig 
families presume to thwart him in his expensive treaties and en- 
tangled intrigues to secure the great objects of his policy, the posses- 
sion of Bremen and Verdun, — that is, as he thought, the prosperity 
of his electoral dominions ? Far from it. Did not they consider 
their acquiescence as the price of his favor, or rather as the price 
that was to be paid for the expulsion of the Stuarts and the Revolu- 
tion of 1G88 ? Did not the Whig ministers and their sovereigns 
think the poAver and prosperity of each necessary to the best inter- 
ests of the other ? Was there more of pupilage and dependence in 
this connection than are always to be found in the connection of men 
who are bound to each other by an interchange of benefits in support 
of laudable objects ? What are we to say of Sir Robert Walpole ? 
Is not the great fault of Sir Robert at all times a too great anxiety 
for the personal favor of his sovereign, — a too great readiness to 
make sacrifices to obtain it, — an almost puerile terror of losing his 
place, when George the Second began to reign, and had dismissed 
him with an intention of making Sir Stephen Compton * minister, — 
an unwillingness to lose it to the last moment of his administration, 
when Pulteney became triumphant ? 

George the First seems to have had no difficulty in keeping his 
favorite minister. Lord Stanhope, in poAver. His courtier, the Earl of 
Sunderland, was always of far more consequence in the state than he 
deserved. Sir Robert Walpole obtained not the superiority which 
he always merited, till his rivals were dead, or had been disgraced 
by the South-Sea Scheme. Sir Robert was, from the mere appre- 
hension of losing his place, obliged to suffer his own personal enemy, 

* A mistake for Sir Spencer Compton. See Coxe's Memoirs of Sir Robert Wal- 
pole, (London, 1816,) Vol. ii., ch. 32, p. 288. — N. 



GEORGE THE THIRD. 537 

and the enemy of his king and country, Lord Bolinghrokc, to return. 
All the terms he could make with the sovereign and his mistress were, 
that this dangerous man should not appear again in the House of 
Lords. What is there here of pupilage in the sovereign ? The in- 
fluence of Sir Robert Walpole arose from his own personal merit, — 
first, with the House of Commons, — and, secondly, with Queen 
Caroline, who assisted him : not in managing the House of Commons, 
and thereby controlling the king, — but in managing the king, and 
therefore in appearing to that house as the man who was honored 
with his confidence and favor. 

The only two instances in Avhich the wishes of the sovereign were 
thwarted were when the Pelhams overpowered Lord Carteret, though 
the avowed favorite of his master, and when Mr. Pitt was admitted 
into office, though personally disliked by the king. In the former of 
these instances, the Pelhams were more approved of by the country 
tlian their rival. Lord Carteret ; they were known to be less ready 
than he to go every length which the king might wish in the politics 
of the Continent. That they afterwards made too great sacrifices to 
him in these points, — particularly the Duke of Newcastle, — more 
than they could well justify to themselves, only serves to show how 
important they thought the king's favor, and how necessary to their 
continuance in office. In the last instance, of Mr. Pitt, was not the 
real objection to him the superiority of liis merit ? that he was con- 
scious of his high talents, and had not the servility of those who have 
nothing but servility to depend upon ? Yet, in the event, did not 
even jMr. Pitt submit to the German system of politics, when he be- 
came himself a minister ? Contrary to all his former opinions, re- 
peatedly avowed with all the fervor of his eloquence, did he not de- 
clare that this system was a millstone round his neck, with which he 
entered into office ? For what reason did he suffer it to remain there, 
but because he found the court too powerful ? 

You will therefore consider, as you read the history, how far the 
Whig families or ministers did become, as Adolphus insists, " not only 
independent of, but in many respects superior to, the throne " ; and, 
again, even admitting the fact, how far they were likely to continue 
so, at the accession of his present Majesty. 

The plan, however, of Lord Bute for their subjugation, as it would 
have been called, when once conceived, was without much difficulty 
carried into execution. Mr. Pitt's power was founded on his superi- 
or abilities, and the high opinion of the pubhc ; that of the Duke of 
Newcastle, on his family and political connections. Both were attach- 
ed to the principles of Whiggism ; but Mr. Pitt despised the duke, 
and the duke hated and feared Mr. Pitt. Mr. Pitt was, unfortunate- 
ly, too conscious of Ids own superior talents ; overbearing and unac- 
commodating, even to his distinguished relative. Lord Temple. It 
was no difficult matter, therefore, for the king, first, to drive Mr. 
68 



538 LECTURE XXX. 

Pitt from office, — then the Duke of Newcastle, — then Lord Rock- 
ingham, who came in as a Whig minister, without Mr. Pitt, — then 
Mr. Pitt, who came in as a Whig minister, without Lord Rocking- 
ham ; and so to manage the mistakes, the feelings, and the virtues 
of all concerned, as to destroy the confidence of all parties in them- 
selves and in each other, and, by the aid of such men of talents as 
were ambitious, and of such men of property and connection as were 
inclined to the court, to continue, for ten or twelve years, a sort of 
running fight with the Whigs and their principles, till the ministry 
of Lord North was found sufficiently stable and accommodating to 
serve all the purposes and gratify all the wishes of the patrons of the 
new system. And it was not necessary to proceed farther in the 
way of experimental administrations, to determine the least possible 
quantity of Whiggism by which the business of the country could be 
conducted. But are these proceedings, the consequences of this new 
system, in reality deserving of the approbation of any intelUgent his- 
torian of England ? 

It is not to be supposed that the new system was much relished by 
the nation, at that time sufficiently near the Revolution and the Re- 
bellion of 1745 to be fond of Whiggism, — or at all relished, more 
particularly, by the metropolis, always the most enhghtened part of 
every community. The young monarch and his court became sud- 
denly unpopular ; his levees were disturbed by petitions that talked 
of the principles that had seated his family on the throne ; and 
the mob delivered their particular sentiments, on every occasion, 
after their own violent and tumultuous manner. I do not enter into 
the detail of these occurrences that so unhappily marked the opening 
years of his Majesty's administration. But it is necessary to say, 
in a word, that they did no credit to the new system, or to its ad- 
visers. 

It is easy to talk of sedition and faction, the licentiousness of the 
people, the ignorance and the brutality of the mob of a metropolis. 
They who see a monarch, amiable and respectable in his nature, in 
the full exercise of every private and domestic virtue, ascend his 
throne in the bloom of youth, amid the shouts and applauses of his 
subjects, and then, without any national calamity, or rather amid the 
highest national prosperity, suddenly cease to be the object of admira- 
tion, find his palaces resounding with complaints, his courts of justice 
with prosecutions for libels, and his highways with uproar, — they who 
can think that such general terms as " faction," " sedition," " Hcen- 
tiousness," are a sufficient solution of such phenomena, may pride 
themselves, if they please, on their loyalty, as they might, with equal 
reason, on their sagacity. But philosophers and statesmen are not 
likely to acquiesce in reasons so superficial, and will not be quite so 
ready to suppose, that, m a time of pubhc and exterior prosperity, 
every tiling can be going wrong in the interior of a community, un- 



GEORGE TPIE THIRD. 539 

less some mistakes of a very unfortunate nature have been made bj 
those who are intrusted with the management of its concerns. 

But to return to the new system, and to the original necessity on 
account of which it Avas adopted. One final illustration of this neces- 
sity may be offered in a few words. " The Earl of Bute," to use the 
words of the historian, " was not a proper person to carry this plan 
into effect ; not connected, either by blood or by familiar intercourse, 
with the leading families in England ; not versed in the arts of popu- 
larity, and not used to Parliamentary opposition ; a native of Scotland, 
with nothing to oppose to a popular and triumphant administration, 
but such friends as hope or interest might supply, and the personal 
esteem of the king." These are the words of the historian : but what 
has been the result ? Such has proved to be the influence of the 
crown, that is, so totally unnecessary has been this new plan of gov- 
ernment, that his royal pupil has never found it necessary to submit 
to the calamity of a "Whig ministry but for three short years (strictly 
speaking, not so often), at three different intervals, duruig a reign of 
half a century. 

But to dwell a little longer on the necessity of the case. Lord 
Bute must be supposed to have understood the records of the past 
very differently from what they can now be understood. Had there 
ever appeared in these Wliig families, in the Walpoles, in the Towns- 
hends, and the Pelhams, any opinions inconsistent with the reverence 
that was due to their sovereign, any improper disregard of the inter- 
ests of the prerogative, any idle ebullitions of unqualified democracy, 
that could disquiet or displease a monarch of the Brunswick race ? 
The more ardent friends of the popular part of the constitution may, 
indeed, think, that, with all their merits, the Wliig families have had 
their faults ; that they first made, and never afterwards repealed or 
modified, the Septennial Bill ; that they sacrificed the interests of 
England to those of Hanover, as their sovereigns required ; that at 
all times they Avere quietists rather than reformers. These accusa- 
tions may be preferred against them by the more ardent friends of 
the popular part of our constitution ; but the friends of the monarchi- 
cal part had 7io accusation to offer. Their only semblance of com- 
plaint was this, that the sovereign could not comfortably rule but by 
means of the Whig families ; that is, could not be independent. Lord 
Bute should have considered how exaggerated was this sort of state- 
ment ; should have reflected well on the nature of a limited monarchy ; 
whether the existence of some restraint' was not implied in the very 
notion of it. What restraint, if the facts were coolly examined, 
could be supposed less than that to which, through the medium of 
the Whig families, the monarchs of the Brunswick line had been ex- 
posed ? — what restraint more easy to the monarch ? — Avhat more 
creditable to the nobility ? — Avhat restraint on the monarch less like- 
ly to debauch the minds of the people by filling them with any unrea- 



540 LECTURE XXX. 

sonable notions of their o'mi importance ? — wliat more safe and salu- 
tary to all concerned ? 

The truth is, that there ^\as, on the whole, no necessity for tliis 
plan of Lord Bute ; — much the contrary ; and there -was a very seri- 
ous preliminary objection to it on the grounds of sentiment and feel- 
ing ; and on the whole, I see not how any one who has meditated on 
subjects of government can survey the adoption of this new system 
with any other sentiments than those of the most distinct pain and 
unequivocal regTet. 

For it is always to be remembered that it is the spirit \N-ith which 
a constitution is in practice administered that is the great point of 
consequence, far more than the letter of the law. It was, therefore, 
very properly specified by George the Second, in his speech at the 
breaking out of the Rebellion in 1745, that " the maxims of the con- 
stitution should ever be the rules of liis conduct." That sort of dis- 
cretionary power, which must at every turn be lodged somewhere or 
other, becomes the safeguard or the enemy of the civil freedom of 
the community, just as it is, or is not, exercised in a constitutional 
manner, in favor of the subject. What, then, is to be the conse- 
quence, if every thing is to be administered in that spirit which would 
be approved of by a monarch and liis courtiers, such as monarchs 
and courtiers, without the slightest disrespect to them, may generally 
be expected, on the common principles of our common nature, to be 
found, and gifted with whatever measure you please of natural good 
sense and benevolence ? What is to be the consequence, (as every 
topic that respects either the pohty or the aifairs of a nation admits 
at least of a debate,) if in every question the king and his friends are 
to give the tone, and if they Avho differ from the court side of the 
question are to be esteemed no longer the friends of their king, and 
are to be set apart from their fellow-subjects as those who are the last 
to be honored with the royal favor, — that is, according to the new 
system of govei-nment, the last who are to appear in the cabinet, or 
the great offices of state, or are to become king's counsel, or post 
captains, or officers of excise or customs, or rise in the army, or re- 
ceive ecclesiastical patronage, or have chancellors' livings, or be ele- 
vated to the bench, — to be the last, themselves, who are to be so pro- 
moted, and to find the same system of silent discountenance extended 
to their relations and dependants, their friends and connections ? 

In the mean time, no complaint can be made, and there is no 
one to accuse. The king has a right to appoint liis o^vn ministers 
and his own officers, through every department of the state ; one man 
can discharge an office as well as another ; reasons of preference may 
exist, but of these the constitution has left the king the sole judge. 
We may say that he is ill-advised ; that the men preferred are not the 
best ; that they have won their situations not so much by their known 
merits as by their known servility : all this we may say, and say truly, 



GEORGE THE THIRD. 541 

and the only answer returned will be, that we want the office for our- 
selves, and perhaps that we are factious and disloyal. In the mean 
time, while the country becomes more and more civilized, it becomes 
more and more difficult for every man to provide for a family with- 
out sinking his rank in society. Professions are more and more 
preferred for the yovmger branches. The candidates for patronage 
contmually increase ; and if no patronage is to descend but through 
the medium of the king's friends, if none is to be gained but by those 
who profess and support high maxims of government on every oc- 
casion, what is to be the result ? 

Perhaps a word may not be uttered all this time by the court, or 
its friends, or its partisans, apparently unfavorable to the constitution 
of the country ; certainly not a word contradictory to the letter of its 
laws, or the form of its institutions. Government must be supported ; 
who can doubt it ? The crown must have its weight in the system, 
assuredly, — if not by prerogative, as in former times, by influence, 
by posts, places, and even sinecures. The friends of a limited mon- 
archy are not very well prepared to deny this, and speak rather of 
the measure of these things than of the things themselves ; and thus 
it happens, that well-meaning, independent, and even sensible men 
either adopt or do not oppose the new system, and do not perceive 
that the vital principle by which the constitution of these kingdoms, 
though always in its letter a strong arbitrary monarchy, was hereto- 
fore in its practice rendered a benign Umited monarchy, and to all 
essential purposes a free government ; that this vital principle is, in 
truth, endangered to the utmost ; that it must gradually decHne, as 
the new system grows up in strength and maturity, and the event 
ultimately be the appearance in our own government of that torpor 
and general servility which mark a government more or less arbitrary, 
like the old government of France, under Louis the Fourteenth : all 
this, or some recoil of a furious nature directly the reverse, from the 
supposed peril and despair of the case. 

Extremes can be right on no side. The king is not to be a cipher 
in the state ; he is to select his ministers and servants from the public 
men whom the country supplies. But it is the p7'oper exercise of this 
discretionary poicer that is the question before us ; and this sliould 
become the subject of your reflections, as you read the history of this 
country from the Revolution do^\■nwards ; for it is this that is the 
hinge (if I may be allowed the expression) on which the constitution 
of the country really turns, — this proper exercise of the discretion- 
ary power lodged by the constitution in the great executive magis- 
trate to choose his ministers and servants. And as it would be one 
extreme, to leave him no exercise of his judgment, or no powers of 
choice, on the one hand ; so is it, on the other hand, another extreme, 
to lay do^vn, and have it avowed as a system, that the government 
shall always be carried on by those whom he or the court thinks 

proper to denominate his friends. 

TT 



542 LECTURE XXX. 

Times and circumstances, the nature and characters of public men, 
must teach their own lessons ; a subject of this singular, delicate, and 
impalpable nature cannot be marked out by the line and the rule ; 
but we may say, and cannot say it too often, that, if the only road to 
honors and power is the mere personal favor of the sovereign, then 
those men alone will be found from time to time possessed of honors 
and power who are favorable to the maxims of prerogative, to the 
principles of harsh government, — who are very indulgent critics of 
the measures of ministers, — who are very careless auditors of the 
public expense, — who are not made very uneasy by sinecui^es, jobs, 
and pensions, — who are not very ready to try or punish pubUc de- 
faulters, unless, indeed, they be the writers of libels, — who are, in 
a word, always unwilling to assist, or rather who are always wilUng 
to impede, in its operations the democratic part of our mixed consti- 
tution. Whether it be by such men and such principles that the 
constitution of these kingdoms has been saved, (not to speak of our 
Plantagenets, our Tudors, and our Charleses, — but saved from 
James the Second, from Lord Bolingbroke, from the Jacobites of 
1715 and 1745, and, above all, from that silent tendency to de- 
terioration which belongs to every thing valuable among mankind,) 
whether it is to such men and such principles that we are to ascribe 
the freedom of this country at this moment, must be left to the con- 
sideration of those who can push their inquiries beyond the forms of 
things into their principles and essence, and who will soon perceive, 
that, however necessary to every civil polity must be its ranks and 
establishments, its officers and magistrates, and, above all, its great 
magistrate, the king, as supreme, all this is but an inferior and even 
(if I may use such an expression) but a vulgar part of the whole, for 
it is what has been accomphshed by France and Austria, and every 
other monarchy in Europe, — and that the real and rare, and above 
all px'ice inestimable, peculiarity of our constitution is that democratic 
principle which can pervade and influence the whole, and yet not 
produce (its more natural fruits) confusion, disorder, and folly, but 
act in perfect consistence with the peace and best interests of the 
state, — and which, whenever it becomes extinct, and can no longer 
thus influence and pervade the whole (from whatever cause the ex- 
tinction may take place, — a new system that has betrayed the con- 
stitution, the necessities of the times which have destroyed its maxims, 
either or both), — whatever be the cause or the system that, in a 
word, leaves men of talents and property without popular motives of 
action, it will assuredly, sooner or later, leave this great kingdom no 
longer to be distinguished from others that do or have existed, on the 
Continent or elsewhere, — its lower orders without spirit, its middle 
ranks without opinions, its public assemblies without weight, and its 
kings without a people. 

Before the Revolution, the favorites of our monarchs were often 



GEORGE THE THIRD. 543 

driven away from the sovereign, fined, imprisoned, or executed ; and 
the democratic part of our constitution, on these occasions, rushed 
forth (if I may be allowed the expression) to teach the monarchical 
part its proper duties in its own rude and unceremonious manner. 
But these were, in fact, more or less, revolutions in the government. 
It is not thus that we can wish, in our own times, the personal char- 
acter of our sovereign to be humbled, or the faults and failings that 
may be more or less inseparable from any hereditary wearer of a 
crown to be brought before the tribunal and visited by the direct 
censure of the community. To set in array democracy against mon- 
archy, and merely to leave the one to correct the mistakes and pun- 
ish the offences of the other, is no very refined or rational expedient 
for the management of a state. It is every thing the reverse. It 
may have been resorted to by men who were hurried on by the tor- 
rent of circumstances, like our ancestors in the time of Charles the 
First, or the patriots of Greece and Rome, who conceived they had 
no other resource against tyranny and oppression ; but the politicians 
of a highly ci\'ilized and intelligent country will always consider any 
open collision in the state as the greatest of all calamities, unless it 
be the absence of civil freedom itself; and they will therefore look 
round very carefully, to find, if possible, some expedient for the 
proper management of a community under a mixed monarchical sys- 
tem of government, the representative assembly having the power of 
taxation, and the king the power of dissolving them. 

Now to those who are meditating the subject of a good constitution 
of government in this elementary manner, an aristocracy would first 
present itself; and at length an aristocracy with popular feelings 
would appear, as I conceive, the great desideratum. From such an 
aristocracy men might be chosen who might be ministers, not favor- 
ites ; who could sympathize with the democratic part of the constitu- 
tion, yet be naturally attached to the office and prerogative of the 
sovereign, — might be themselves objects of love and respect to the 
one, and of kindness and esteem to the other, — of confidence to 
both. 

But how is such an aristocracy, an aristocracy with popular feel- 
ings, to be found ? It could not well be generated by mere institu- 
tion ; none such has ever appeared in the world. A monarch may 
be easily created ; the people we have already ; but where is to be 
found such a cement of the two as an aristocracy with popular feel- 
ings ? Set an order of men apart, give them privileges and titles of 
honor, and you raise up a nobility ; but it will only be to leave them 
to unite with the sovereign at all times against the public, to render 
them insolent and unfeeling to their inferiors. The patricians of 
Rome, the nobles of Venice, even the feudal nobihfcy of Germany 
and France, none of these are the exact description of men we wish 
for. 



544 LECTURE XXX. 

Now I must confess it appears to me that we were furnished very 
tolerably with what we could desire, when we had the aristocracy of 
England such as it existed during the reigns of George the First and 
George the Second. Consider it in all its functions, relations, opin- 
ions, feelings : a nobihty who were graced with privileges and honors, 
armed with property and power ; who had placed the reigning family 
on the throne, but who had done this on popular principles ; who 
were thus bound to the king, but were also pledged to the people ; 
who were connected with the sovereign by the enjoyment and expec- 
tation of titles and offices, and yet united to the people, first, by a 
common resistance to an arbitrary power, then by common laws, com- 
mon maxims and opinions, religious and pohtical, mutual respect, 
common interests of property and security ; and were even allied and 
interwoven into the mass of their fellow-citizens by mingling, through 
the medium of their dearest relations, in the democratic branch of the 
legislature. A more favorable situation of things could not well be 
supposed by the most sanguine speculator on the social union of man- 
kind. The misfortune would undoubtedly be, that even this aris- 
tocracy might not be sufficiently jealous of the prerogative of the 
crown, not sufficiently ahve to the claims and rights of the subject. 
But, on the whole, a considerable approach would be made to secure, 
in a peaceful and steady manner, the main interests of all the constitu- 
ent parts of the community. 

Here we must come to a pause. It is now that the new system 
of Lord Bute presents itself. It was the very end and aim of this 
new system to destroy this very aristocracy, at least that part of this 
aristocracy with which we are at present concerned, — that part 
more particularly distinguished for its more popular principles, re- 
ceiving confidence alike from the favor of the sovereign and the ap- 
probation and gratitude of the people. Far from turning it to the 
great purposes to which it might have been applied, far from bringing 
it forward to the discharge of all the high and healing offices of which 
it was capable, it was the immediate eSect of the new system to 
counteract all such purposes, to disregard all such offices, to enter- 
tain far other views of the constitution of England, or of the benefits 
to be derived from any constitution of government, — to provide in a 
manner totally different for the dignity and happiness of the sovereign, 
for the respectabihty of the aristocracy, and for the welfare of the 
people. 

According to the new system, the king was to be as independent 
of his aristocracy, and not as intermingled as possible in all their in- 
terests and sympathies, — to be rescued from the necessity of shar- 
ing his consequence with any order, or any individuals of that order. 
He was to rule by men who looked only to the throne, — not by the 
Whig families who had some respect for themselves, as w^ell as rever- 
ence for the monarch, and who looked also to the people. He was 



GEORGE THE THIRD. 545 

to choose his ministers, and that entirely as his own partialities di- 
rected him : that is, " favorites," under the title of friends, were to 
be preferred, as fit objects of his confidence, to men who had charac- 
ters and opinions of their own, and who therefore could operate with 
a salutary. influence on his. But this was not all. Great efforts 
were to be made to accomplish this destruction of the political influ- 
ence and popular feehngs of the Whig families ; a miserable system 
of intrigue was to be entered upon. The least honorable men of each 
knot and division of the aristocracy were to be brought over to the 
court party, the better to destroy all confidence and union among 
those who remained ; to divide, and therefore rule, to degrade, and 
therefore render insignificant, was the very scheme and essence of 
the plan, involved in the very supposition of it. And these new con- 
verts, these deserters and stragglers from their family and party at- 
tachments, from the notions of their ancestors, from the popular 
sympathies by which they had hitherto been so honorably distinguish- 
ed, these were the men who were to be associated as friends and 
familiars to the bosom of their sovereign. The people in the mean 
time were to lose their former respect for public men, whom they were 
now to see mutually betraying and accusing each other, — and even 
for the sovereign himself, whom they were also to see, as far as they 
could judge, practising upon the mean and selfish passions of his 
aristocracy. 

I confess that it appears to me a more unhappy expedient than the 
new system could not well have been devised, for procuring the ex- 
tinction of every thing rare and precious in the constitution of our 
government, for destro\ang the British patriotism of the monarch, the 
British spirit of the nobility, the British loyalty of the people. Pre- 
rogative was to remain, and privilege was to remain, and obedience 
was to remain ; but all these necessary elements of government were 
to lose their former sympathies, limits, and nature : they were no 
longer to be what they were made by the Revolution of 1G88. 

The maxims of a court are not the security of a court ; servility is 
not loyalt}'- ; and attachment to civil freedom not republicanism. It 
may answer well to the designing on each side, to confound principles 
and characters, in themselves distinct. But when proper allowance 
has been made, and pardon extended to the unavoidable faults and 
mistakes of public men and private men of every description, of par- 
ties and of their leaders, it will always be competent for any one who 
really understands the mixed and free constitution of this country, if 
he pleases, to distinguish from each other those who think too ex- 
clusively of the king, those who think too exclusively of the people, 
and those who are not only virtuous, but wise enough to think of the 
best interests of both. I condescend not to speak of those who think 
only of themselves, who have no political principle at all, who mean 
only to get place or preferment in their profession. 

G9 TT* 



546 LECTURE XXX. 

Here I had been accustomed to end the lecture, after I had refer- 
red my hearers to Burke's Thoughts on the Cause of the Present 
Discontents, to other pamphlets of the time, and to the general 
principles of Lord Bolingbroke's writings, as contrasted with those 
of Mr. Burke ; but in the yea,Y 1823 I had been struck with certain 
appearances that I had observed in and out of Parliament, and I 
from that time always ended the lecture by subjoining what I shall 
noAY read, — written, you will remember, in the year 1823. 

This new system had a tendency to increase servility in the nation, 
in the way I have suggested ; but it did not follow, though it should 
succeed, as it did succeed, in a most unfortunate manner, still it did 
not follow, that it should extinguish, in a country like this, the spirit 
of freedom, — the spirit that naturally belongs to the commercial and 
manufacturing classes, as they rise into affluence and importance. 
But in this case it will have, undoubtedly, an effect in giving to this 
spirit, as exhibited in these classes, a more republican tone and feeling. 
The new system has gone far to destroy the Whig families and their 
influence. It is possible, also, that the great events of modern times, 
that mistakes of the Whigs themselves, that the fickle nature of hu- 
man opinions, that all or any of these, may have contributed to the 
same effect. But any change of this kind will be, to all who love the 
constitution of their country, and who, I must presume to add, have 
examined and understand it, a circumstance deeply to be lamented. 
For a fearful void, an arena that may very easily be covered with 
tumult and bloodshed, is immediately disclosed, when the monarch is 
set on one side, and the people on the other, and an aristocracy with 
popular feelings is withdrawn from between them. It can never have 
been the interest of the people, still less of the crown, to have any 
alteration like this in our political system. What may not be the 
fortunes of our constitution, and the experiments to which it may be 
exposed, if the ancient friends of liberty, the friends of liberty upon 
the ancient and tried model, are no longer to be treated with confi- 
dence and respect ? 

Wlien ]Mr. Burke had to defend his country, as he conceived, from 
the democratic principles of France, it was to the Whigs and their 
principles, and the Revolution of 1688, that he appealed. Mr. 
Sheridan, in like manner, with directly opposite opinions, did the 
same ; and it was for the people of England to decide between them. 
Nothing could be more valuable to a community than to have, at any 
crisis like this, a common test and standard to which they could re- 
fer. Nothing can be so important to a nation already possessed of 
prosperity and freedom to so remarkable a degree, — nothing so im- 
portant, as a ready means, like this, of protecting themselves from 
the heats and delusions of particular seasons, as a ready means, at 
all times, of distinguishing from each other the man of speculation 
and the man of sense. 



AMERICAN WAR. 647 

In a word, they -n-lio have proposed and patronized the new system 
have been preparing the people of England, more or less, for that 
species of monarchy which has been represented by Ilnme as the 
euthanasia, the natural and tranquil death, of the British constitu- 
tion ; or they have been preparing us, on the other hand, for the in- 
fluence of those who are desirous to refer every thing to the people, 
to their public meetings, their resolutions and addresses, their will, 
in short, and their wisdom, when enhghtened by the press, to be pro- 
duced on every occasion, and to be considered as a specific for every 
political disease that can approach us. But such an order of things 
is repubUcanism, under whatever name it may be disguised. Such a 
government may be better for America : by some it may be thought 
better for England ; but it is not the constitution of England, and on 
this head, at least, let no mistakes be made. 

Any effect of the kind now described might be little in the con- 
templation of Lord Bute, of those who first advised the new system, 
of those who have since, or those who, even now, venture to maintain 
it ; but it is no uncommon occurrence in the history of human affairs, 
to see men, while they are escaping from one uneasiness or restraint, 
incur evils of an opposite nature, far more disagreeable in themselves, 
and far more destructive in their consequences. 



LECTURE XXXI. 



AMERICAN WAR. 



I HAVE in my last lecture alluded to the opening of the present 
reign, and to the new system of government which was then adopted. 
I do not think it necessary to enter into the discussion of such events 
as took place. I have proposed to your consideration such observa- 
tions and principles as will enable you, I conceive, both to explain 
and judge of them. The narrative and details, to which you are to 
apply them, you must yourselves study. 

I hasten to the subject which I always proposed to myself as the 
proper termination of these lectures, — the American War. 

Prior to the French Revolution, this subject could not have been 
well presented to you ; for the passions that it had excited could 
scarcely have been said to have properly subsided. But at the very 
name and sound of the French Revolution, every other revolution and 
event loses its first and even proper interest ; and we now discuss the 



548 LECTURE XXXI. 

measures and administration of Lord North, or the conduct of the 
American Congress, the chiim of the right of taxation on the one part, 
and the resistance to that claim on the other, almost with the same 
impartiality which would be felt bj the reasoners of after ages. 
Such sentiments, therefore, as occur to me, and as occur to others, 
I shall lay before you in the most unreserved manner ; considering 
the whole as now become entirely a portion of history, which I may 
fairly attempt to convert, as I would any other, to the proper purposes 
of your instruction. 

The American war must immediately appear to you a subject of 
historical curiosity. By the event of that war, an independent em- 
pire has arisen, boundless in extent, and removed from the reach of 
the arms, secure at least from the invasions, of Europe ; beginning its 
career with such advantages as our communities in the Old World 
never possessed ; beginning almost from the point to which they have 
but arrived in the progress of nearly two thousand years. It is even 
possible that what England once was may have to be traced out here- 
after, by the philosophers of distant ages, from the language, the 
customs, the manners, the political feelings of men inhabiting the 
banks of the Mississippi, or enjoying the benefits of society amid what 
may be now a wilderness, inaccessible to the footsteps of every hu- 
man being. 

Such is the American war, as a subject of historical curiosity to 
the readers of whatever clime or nation. But to ourselves it is even 
more attractive and important. One half of our empire has been vio- 
lently rent from the other. We no longer, in case of a war, shut out 
that long line of harbours from the ships and fleets of our enemies ; 
■we no longer let loose the privateers of America upon their trade ; 
we no longer man our fleets with her strong and skilful seamen : all 
these advantages are no longer exclusively our own ; they may even 
be turned against us. Great Britain seems no longer to overshadow 
the globe, the West as well as the East, with the image of her great- 
ness. Assuredly, at the peace of 17G3, the power and empire of 
this country seemed to the nations, and might have appeared even to 
the philosophers of Europe, above all ancient, and above all modern 
fame. To what extent that power and empire might have been car- 
ried by the interchange of the natural productions of America -ynth 
the manufactures of Britain, by the proper application and sympathy 
of youthful and matured strength, it is indeed difiicult for us to de- 
termine ; but the subject of the possible greatness of Great Britain 
did not a little disquiet, as it appears, the speculations of our ene- 
mies, whether feeling for their posterity, or attentive to their own 
advantages. 

How, then, was it, or why, that this promising appearance of 
things was, on a sudden, to cease ? How was it that this great em- 
pire was to be torn asunder? that France, and other unfriendly 



AMERICAN WAR. 549 

powers on the Continent, liad no longer to dread the united strength 
of England and America ; but could even please themselves, like Ta- 
citus of old while in terror of the enemies of Rome, with the specta- 
cle of a civil war, and employ themselves in turning the force of the 
one to the destruction of the other ? 

You may be told, indeed, in a word, that Great Britain wished to 
tax America, and that America successfully resisted. But how, may 
you reasonably think, could such things be ? Could not a dispute 
about revenue have been composed Avithout an open rupture and a 
separation, — without the shedding of blood, — without the horrors 
and calamities of a civil war ? And again, if arms were to be re- 
sorted to, how could it happen that Great Britain should fail in the 
contest ? that the same power which had just humbled the house of 
Bourbon should not be a match for her oa\ti colonies, — should not 
be able, after overpowering the fleets and armies of the first nations 
of Europe, immediately to discomfit the farmers and merchants of 
America ? How are such events to be explained ? What demon of 
folly got possession of our councils ? What malignant star shed its 
influence on our arms ? Where were our statesmen, and where were 
our generals ? 

I conceive, therefore, that there is now before you a very striking 
subject of historical interest, if you can but abstract yourselves, as 
you must always endeavour to do, from your present knowledge of 
the event, and set yourselves to consider what were the principles 
in action at the time, and what it was natural to expect would be the 
consequences : comparing, as you proceed in the history, these ex- 
pected consequences with the real events ; reading, indeed, the nar- 
rative, but stopping from time to time to gather up the instruction 
which the facts, thus reviewed, are fitted to afford you. 

I will now, therefore, mention the books which you may consult. — 
The history of the American Revolution has not yet been written by 
any of the great masters of literature ; and since the appearance of 
the French Revolution, I know not that any writer of this description 
would be properly rewarded by any attention which the public would 
pay to his work, whatever might be its merit. Another circum- 
stance is also to be mentioned : he w^ould not find the precise materi- 
als he might expect. The American patriots, when they met in 
Congress to deliberate on the resistance to be made to Great Britain, 
debated with closed doors, and what passed cannot now be known ; 
yet the feelings and reasonings of such men, on such an occasion, 
would have constituted the most instructive portion of the whole dis- 
pute. The same, nearly, may be said of the debates in our own 
Parliament, which could only have been second in interest to the for- 
mer. But the report of tliese debates will extremely disappoint you ; 
it is meagre and imperfect. Access to our House of Commons was 
sometimes altogether denied, and was always rendered, as it appears 



550 LECTURE XXXI. 

from passages in the debates themselves, a matter of some difficulty. 
The consequence was very unfortunate, — not, indeed, to the same ex- 
tent as in the former case, but still to a degree much to be lamented. 
Some idea may indeed be formed, from these debates, of the talents 
of Colonel Barrd, Sir George Savile, and even of Burke ; some, per- 
haps, though a most inadequate one, of the powers of Fox ; and, on 
the whole, a general notion of the sort of opposition that was made in 
Parliament to the scheme of coercing America. But no idea what- 
ever, I am satisfied, can be formed of the powers of Lord North, or 
even of Thurlow and Wedderburn, — in short, of the pleasantry, the 
arguments, and the eloquence by which the ministerial system was 
recommended (and successfully) to the approbation of the country 
gentlemen and the independent members of the lower house of Par- 
liament. I do not say that we have no debates left, and that we 
have no opportunities of instructing ourselves amid the reasoning of 
our statesmen and legislators ; but I say that they are not at all what 
we might have expected, and not at all what they should have been 
in a civilized nation and under a free government like ours. We 
must make, indeed, the best of our materials ; and I shall endeavour 
to do so immediately. But I thought it necessary to apprise you of 
what I have felt a most disagreeable disappointment when looking 
round for information myself. 

But to proceed with regard to the books you may have recourse 
to. The first great magazine of information which may be mention- 
ed is the Remembrancer, a work of twenty volumes,* comprehending 
all the documents relative to the American contest that could be col- 
lected at the time by a London bookseller, Almon. Almon, however, 
was an opposition bookseller ; the Remembrancer therefore remembers 
chiefly such letters, speeches, and publications as serve to display the 
injustice of the designs and the folly of the councils of Great Britain. 
The whole must be examined thoroughly by all Avho are to write 
upon the subject of the American war ; but as there is an index of 
contents, I would rather advise the student to have recourse to the 
work when other works have been considered, and when he has be- 
come a judge of what is or is not important. What he should look 
for is such local and appropriate information from America as cannot 
find a place in the regular histories he reads. The first volume, con- 
taining what are called Prior Documents, from 1764 to 1775, should 
be examined : though most of them will have occurred in other places, 
there are some that would not readily be met with elsewhere. The 
earlier parts of a contest are always the most instructive. 

The History of Gordon, in four thick octavo volumes, wiU, in like 
manner, be consulted with best effect when other accounts have been 

* " In all, seventeen volumes ; to which should be added the Prior Documents, pub- 
lished in 1777," in one volume. Rich's Bibliotheca Americana Nova, (London, 1835,) 
p. 210. — N. 



AMERICAN WAR. 551 

perused. The author appears to have had access to good sources of 
information ; and the work is an immense assemblage of facts, pre- 
sented to the reader "with httle or no comment, and with great im- 
partiahty. In this instance, as in the former, I would advise you to 
select from the index such parts as may be important, and you will 
sometimes be rewarded, though you will often think the account given 
very short and inadecpiate to its subject. The first volume is the 
most curious, as entering moi'e minutely into all the views and rea- 
sonings of the American patriots, — into all the local politics, con- 
tests mth the governors, and petty, but serious, irritations which 
took place in America prior to the commencement of hostilities. 
The work, too, is valuable as confirming, by its simple and plain 
statements, the conclusions which would be drawn from other and 
better histories respecting very important points, — the distresses of 
Washington, the injurious effects of the depreciation of the paper 
money, the vain attempts of Congress to encounter them by the 
operation of laws, &c., &c. On the whole, Gordon's appears to me 
a history that has been made much use of, though it is in fact super- 
seded by the superior and more concise History of Ramsay. 

Jefferson's History of Virginia is always recommended, but it is 
merely what might be expected from its title, and is little to our pres- 
ent purpose. 

Morse's Geography will supply you with information respecting the 
particular States of America, their history, more appropriate ad- 
vantages, and separate constitutions. It is a common book, and will 
be of use. 

Franklin's Works will be found very entertaining and instructive, 
particularly part of his Life, wiitten by himself, and every thing that 
relates to America and the subjects of political economy : for example, 
his Letters to Governor Shirley, which contain the first predictions 
on the subject of American taxation, so early as 1754 ; and a remark- 
able paper printed in January, 1768, Avhere the American case is 
calmly and well stated, much upon the same principles and in the 
same spirit -with Burke's celebrated speeches ; and a letter, not less 
reasonable, of an carher date, and therefore more important, in Janu- 
ary, 1766. Tliis letter was intended to show that the Stamp Act 
should be repealed, &c., &c. Franklin's very remarkable examina- 
tion, in February, 1766, before the British Parliament, so creditable 
to him, may be found also in these volumes, with other curious docu- 
ments which I have not now time even to enumerate. The powerful 
understanding of Franklin, in the very peculiar circumstances of 
America, made him a person of such consequence, that every thing 
relating either to him or liis publications becomes a subject of history. 
The editor of the present work intimates that writings of his have 
been prevented from seeing the light by the management of particular 
persons in this country. Since I drew up these lectures, a quarto 



552 LECTURE XXXI. 

volume of his correspondence has been pubhshed ; another is expect- 
ed. It was agreeable to me to find that his entertaining and instruct- 
ive letters, as far as our present subject was concerned, only confirm- 
ed what I had already written. 

You will sometimes see the work of Chalmers referred to. It is 
an immense, heavy, tedious book, to explain the legal liistory of the 
different colonies of America. It should be consulted on all such 
points. It goes down to the Revolution of 1688. But it is impossi- 
ble to read it. The leaves, however, should be turned over, for curi- 
ous particulars often occur, and the nature of the first settlement and 
original laws of each colony should be known. The last chapter, in- 
deed, ought to be read. The right to tax the colonies became a 
great point of dispute. Chalmers means to show that the sovereign- 
ty of the British Parliament existed over America, because the 
settlers, though emigrants, were still English subjects, and members 
of the empire. 

Such are the books that may be consulted, as in themselves im- 
portant and connected with the general subject. I now proceed to 
propose to you such a course of reading as may be gone through, — 
first, on a larger scale, next, on a smaller. 

In the first place, the debates in Parliament may be looked at. 
Many important documents are there to be met with ; and these, and 
some of the speeches of the celebrated men on each side of the House 
should be read. The protest, for instance, in the Lords, on the re- 
peal of the Stamp Act, is the best statement I have seen of the 
views and reasonings of those who supported the system of American 
taxation. 

Secondly, there is a History of the American War by Stedman. 
Stedman served in the British army during the war. 

Thirdly, there is a history of the American contest by Dr. Ram- 
say, who was liimself a member of Congress. 

Fourthly, some of the letters of Washington to Congress were 
published. 

Fifthly, a Life of Washington, by Marshall. 

These I select as books that contain original information, and 
should be read. 

From the pamphlets that have appeared, I select, in like manner, 
Paine's Common Sense, — the Tracts of Dean Tucker, — two pamph- 
lets by Robinson, afterwards Lord Rokeby, — the speeches printed by 
Burke, — and the pamphlet of Dr. Johnson, Taxation no Tyranny. 

They who are not at leisure to examine these books and pamphlets 
will find the volumes of the Annual Register an excellent substitute 
for them all. They contain, in the most concise form, the most able, 
impartial, and authentic history of the dispute which can be found. 
The account is understood to have been drawn up by Burke, and if 
so, (and there is no doubt of it,) the arguments on each side are dis- 
played with an impartiality that is quite admirable. 



AMERICxiN WAR. 553 

Lastly, from these works and from others have been drawn up the 
histories of Adolphus and Belsham. These histories may be read by 
those who can read no more, but they must neither of them be read 
separately or without the other. They are drawn up on very differ- 
ent principles : — Belsham conceiving that the Americans were right 
in their resistance ; Adolphus thinking, certainly wishing his readers 
to think, that they were entirely wrong : the one written on what are 
called AVhig, and the other on Tory, principles of government. The 
one is, I conceive, sometimes too indulgent to the Congress ; the 
other always so to the Enghsh ministry. Belsham I consider as by 
'far the most reasonable of the two in every thing that is laid doAvn 
respecting the American war. The objectionable passages in Adol- 
phus I found so many, that, after taking notes for the purpose, I saw 
them swell to such a size, that all comment of this kind appeared to 
me in a lecture quite impossible, and you must learn to comment 
upon them yourselves, as I have done, by the perusal of better writ- 
ers. The merit of Adolphus is, that he puts the reader very fairly 
in possession of the views and arguments of Lord Chatham and others, 
who opposed the system that, in defiance of them, he himself es- 
pouses. 

I should expect, then, on the whole, that these two, Belsham and 
Adolphus, and the particular parts of the Annual Register, would at 
least be read by every one who hears me. Ramsay should next be 
added, — his History is short, — and, if possible, much of the fourth 
and fifth volumes of Marshall. Burke's speeches will of course be 
read ; and any pamphlet that was written by such a man as Dr. John- 
son. Lord Chatham was so considerable a personage during this 
period, that the life of him wliich has been published, which is at least 
the best account of him and his speeches that we have, should by no 
means be overlooked. 

And here I might, perhaps, leave the subject, having endeavoured 
to excite your curiosity, and pointed out the best means I know of 
gratifying it. Aware, too, that all proper instruction will be offered 
to you by the works I have mentioned, the rest must be labor and 
reflection on your part ; and you must become wiser and better, on 
this occasion, as on others, (a sentiment, this, I have often expressed 
to you,) by the faithful exertion and virtuous use of the talents and 
opportunities intrusted to your disposal. I am, however, not satisfied 
without attempting to do more than I have yet done, — without at- 
tempting to assist you in shaping out this instruction into a few dis- 
tinct and palpable masses. Many of you who hear me may be des- 
tined to have influence hereafter ; as men of education, you can none 
of you be entirely without it ; and neither the world nor our own 
island is in a state, as I have before intimated, to admit of any indo- 
lence or ignorance on political subjects in those who ought to be the 
efficient members of the community. 

70 uu 



554 LECTURE XXXI. 

I shall therefore, m the first place, comment upon the principles 
and measures of the supporters of the American war on this side of 
the Atlantic ; then, on the other side of the Atlantic ; next, on the con- 
duct of the war itself; in the last place, on the people of America. 
Many lessons may, no doubt, be draA\-n from each ; many more than 
have occurred to me ; many more than I can here conveniently lay 
before you : what, however, appear to me of the most importance I 
will select and state to you. 

North America, as you know, was peopled and civihzed chiefly by 
adventurers from this country ; that is, in a word, England was the 
parent, and America the dependent state. I have already made ob- 
servations on the connections of different states with each other ; I 
did so in my lecture on the Union with Scotland. These observations 
it would be very convenient to me, if I could on this occasion recall 
to your recollection. The sum and substance, however, of them was, 
that, in such a case as this before us, in the case of a mother country 
and colonies, an ultimate separation of the two was the result to 
wliich the progress of the prosperity of the dependent state naturally 
tended ; that, as in the relation of parent and child, helplessness is to 
be succeeded by strength, strength by maturity, maturity by inde- 
pendence, so in states and empires issuing from each other, new 
sentiments and new duties are to arise from the changing situation 
of the parties ; and that it is the business and the wisdom of the pai"- 
ent state, more particularly, to conform without a murmur to those 
eternal laws which have ordained a constant progress in all things, 
and which have decreed that nations, like individuals, are no longer 
to require from youth and from manhood the blind and unconditional 
submission which is connected with the imbecility and inexperience 
of the infant and the child ; that by skill and forbearance this ulti- 
mate separation may be protracted to the benefit of the mother coun- 
try, but that the separation itself must always be kept in view as an 
issue at length inevitable ; and that the euthanasia of the connection 
is an affectionate intercourse of good offices, an alliance of more than 
ordinary sympathy and sincerity, and a gradual transmutation of the 
notions of protection and submission, of supremacy and allegiance, 
into those of interchanged regard and respect, into those of a sense 
of common interest in the friendship and kindness and growing pros- 
perity of each other. Such must always be the philosophy of the 
case when the colonies can ever, by their extent and natural fertility, 
be advanced into any situation imitating that of the son to the father 
in the relations of social fife. In the one case as in the other, much 
unhappiness may be caused, much injury may arise, both to the parent 
and to the child, by a want of good temper and compliance with the 
ordinances of nature ; but the wisdom which these ordinances point 
out is at all times the same, equally obvious and indispensable. 

Now the case of America and England was one precisely of this 



AMERICAN WAR. 555 

nature. America in extent boundless, in natural advantages unex- 
ampled, removed to a distance from the mother country, how was it 
possible that the natural tendency of things, in all other cases, should, 
in this particular case of America and England, cease to operate ? 
To what end, indeed, or purpose, as far as the best interests of either, 
or the great interests of humanity and the world, were concerned ? 
Why was a great continent, a country of lakes into which our island 
might be thrown and buried, of forests which might overshadow our 
principalities and kingdoms, of falls and cataracts which might sweep 
away our cities, and of descending seas to which our noblest streams 
might in comparison be thought but rivulets and brooks, — why was 
such a country, whicli the God of nature had clothed with all his 
highest forms of magnificence and grandeur, — why was such a coun- 
try, though, in the mysterious dispensations of his providence, it was 
to be raised into existence by an island in the Old World, — why 
was it to be impeded in its career by the manacles that were to be 
thrown over its giant limbs by the selfishness of its parent ? — why pre- 
vented from rushing on in its destined race, to become itself the new 
world, as Europe had been the old, teeming with the life and glowing 
with the business of human society, and doubling, treblmg, multiply- 
ing to an indefinite extent the number of sentient beings to which our 
planet may give support ? — why prevented from journeying on with all 
the accumulating resources of its independent strength, till the same 
progress of things which had thus ripened the colony into a kingdom, 
and a kingdom into the new Europe of the western hemisphere, 
should have advanced the planet itself to its final consummation, and 
the labors and the grandeur and the happiness of man, on this side 
the grave, should be no more ? 

Tliere surely could be no reason, either on any general system of 
benevolence or on any practical scheme of human policy, why these 
great laws of our particular portion of the universe should not be 
cheerfully acquiesced in by any intelligent statesman, — should not 
be patiently submitted to, as a matter of necessity, by every practical 
politician in the parent state. What other hope, what possible alter- 
native, presented itself? Stay the sun in his course, because he has 
warmed the nations of the Atlantic till they are no longer dependent 
on our bounty ! — arrest the principles of increase and decay, because 
they no longer appear to operate to our particular aggrandizement ! 
Vain and hopeless efforts ! Rather turn the opportunities and indul- 
gences of nature which yet remain to their best advantage ; far better 
to be grateful to tlie Author of all good for blessings past and to 
come ; and not, from a blind, preposterous, unschooled, and irreverent 
ambition, fret and struggle where it is in vain to contend, and per- 
haps hurry on, a century or two before their time, all those evils of 
comparative decline and decreasing power which are now terrifying 
your imagination, and interrupting all the regular conclusions of the 



556 LECTURE XXXI. 

understanding. Protract, if jou please, by all the expedients of mild 
government, the day of separation ; but to endeavour to adjourn it 
for ever, and that by force, is ridiculous, for it is in the very nature 
of things impossible. 

Views of this kind should certainly have presented themselves to 
our statesmen soon after the middle of the last century. It was not 
necessary that they should be displayed in their speeches in Parlia- 
ment, or in their conversation in private society. But, assuredly, 
they should have been present to their minds when they came to 
speculate in their closets, and still more when the}^ came to advise 
their sovereign in his cabinet. Great caution, and a most concilia- 
tory system of government from England to America, would, no 
doubt, have been the result ; no high assertions of authority either in 
theory or in practice ; no search into dormant claims ; no statements 
and adjustments of rights and duties, before uncertain and undefined ; 
no agitation of perilous questions of supremacy and obedience ; no 
experiments of legislation for the exclusive benefit of the parent state ; 
in short, nothing that should disturb that general tendency which 
may be observed in mankind to retain their habits of thinking and 
acting (all these would have been in favor of the mother country) 
long after the reasons in which they originated have ceased to exist. 

Had sentiments of this kind influenced the councils of Great Brit- 
ain soon after the accession of his present Majesty to the throne, it is 
impossible to say how long the two countries might have slumbered 
on in a long-estabUshed system of generous superintendence on the 
one side, and habitual confidence and duty on the other. Many 
think the French Revolution would not have happened, had not the 
American preceded it ; but, at all events, the connection between 
England and her colonies might have been long protracted by a 
philosopluc poUcy of the kind I have described ; we should at least 
have avoided the folly of an opposite system, and of producing before 
its time the event we dreaded. 

But we must now turn aside from those general views and great 
laws and principles of nature, which statesmen, amid their humbler 
details and more minute contrivances for the interest of their com- 
munities, ought never to lose sight of, and we must descend all at 
once to the miserable, mortifying, melancholy facts of our dispute 
with America. I will describe this dispute in a few sentences. 

We conclude a triumphant peace with the house of Bourbon in 
1763. The French are obliged to abandon America, and all Europe 
is jealous of our present and apprehensive of our future prosperity ; 
and this happy state of things no sooner takes place, America and 
ourselves are no sooner in a situation to enjoy and urge to the utmost 
the prosperity of each other, than what is the consequence ? Acts 
are drawn up by the British Parliament to enforce restrictions on the 
trade of the colonies, — to put an end to what was denominated their 



AMERICAN WAR. 557 

smuggling trade. The greatest irritation and considerable injury are 
thus occasioned ; the mother country appears no longer the protec- 
tress and nurse of their prosperity. This is the first specimen I have 
to mention of our statesmen, and the next is this : — a resolution is 
actually formed to draw a revenue from America by the authority 
of the British Parliament, which revenue, however small on its first 
introduction, might afterwards, when the precedent was once estab- 
lished, be increased, as it was very obvious, to any extent which the 
same British Parliament might think proper. This is the second 
specimen ; the rest is in due order. When this measure is resisted 
by America, as might have been expected, troops are sent from Eng- 
land to insist upon obedience. The sword is actually drawn ; from 
year to year the contest is maintained ; our rivals and enemies at 
length openly join the cause of the Americans ; and the result of the 
whole is, that, after a bloody and most perilous struggle, we are 
obliged to acknowledge the independence of our colonies, and be very 
well satisfied that we have been able to maintain our own inde- 
pendence and support our own national consequence against the 
world. 

But what a drama, what a tragedy, what a long spectacle of im- 
policy, is thus in a few words described ! What solution are we to 
produce for such miserable infatuation in the most enhghtened nation 
on earth, at the close of the eighteenth century ? 

" The whole of your political conduct," said Lord Chatham, when 
addressing the ministers of the country in February, 1775, "has 
been one continued series of weakness, temerity, despotism, igno- 
rance, futility, negligence, blundering, and the most notorious servili- 
ty, incapacity, and corruption." 

" These ministers," said his son, the late Mr. Pitt, at a subsequent 
period, " will destroy the empire they are called upon to save, be- 
fore the indignation of a great and suffering people can fall upon their 
heads in the punishment which they deserve. — I affirm the war to 
have been a most accursed, wicked, barbarous, cruel, unnatural, un- 
just, and diabolical war." 

Yet were these ministers, the advisers and supporters of this war, 
as individuals, men of education and ability. Lord North was the 
dehght of every private society which he honored with his presence, 
and in the senate appeared in every respect fitted for his situation, 
as far as natural talents were concerned ; second to none in the 
powers of conducting a debate, imrivalled in the possession of a most 
inexhaustible fund of elegant pleasantry, and of a temper that was 
always the last to be rufiled and the first to be appeased. In both 
houses, they who resisted the impolitic system of American coercion 
were for several years left on every occasion in the most insignificant 
minorities, and the war was supported by a clear and ardent majority 
of every division of the community, — with, perhaps, the exception, 

u u* 



558 LECTURE XXXI. 

for some time, of a part of the manufacturers and merchants, those 
who found their trade interrupted, and were afraid of losing what 
they had lent to the American merchants. 

Now this, on the whole, appears to me a case well fitted to excite 
your inquiries. What are the causes that can be mentioned as hav- 
ing produced such unhappy eflfects on this side of the Atlantic ? I 
will ofter to your consideration such as have occurred to me. I will 
mention first those that were natural and not discreditable to us, then 
those that tvere discreditable. 

Of the first kind, then, was a general notion in the Enghsh people 
that their cause was just. The sovereignty was supposed to be in 
the parent state ; in the rights of sovereignty were included the rights 
of taxation: England, too, was considered as having protected the 
Americans from the French in the war that had been lately conclud- 
ed. The Americans, therefore, when they resisted the mother coun- 
try in her attempt to tax them, were considered on the first account 
as rebellious, and on the second as ungrateful. 

The sentiment, then, of the contest, as far as it was honorable to 
the inhabitants of this country, originated in the considerations just 
mentioned. But this sentiment would have produced no such effect 
as the American war, had it not been excited and exasperated by 
other considerations, which I shall now lay before you, and which 
were not creditable to us. These I shall endeavour to illustrate in 
the ensuing lectures, because they were such as I think you may 
yourselves be exposed to the influence of, hereafter, and their opera- 
tion can never be favorable to the interests of your country. Of the 
first which I have mentioned, the supposed right of taxation, I shall 
now say no more, but shall allude finally to it before I advert to the 
conduct of the war. The ministers and people of England might 
neither mean to be, nor he, the tyrants and oppressors which they 
were thought by the people of America ; but whether they were as 
reasonable and prudent, or even as well justified, in their measures 
of taxation, much less of coercion, as they supposed, is quite another 
question. It is this last part of the general subject, that which is 
discreditable to us, that I shall for some time more particularly place 
in your view. I may thus appear to some only an advocate for the 
American cause. I am not so ; but I am anxious to show you the 
unpardonable mistakes that were made by the statesmen and people 
of Great Britain, that you may be the better able to avoid such mis- 
takes yourselves. 

Turning, then, at present, from the causes first mentioned, an 
opinion in the people of England that the Americans were rebellious 
and ungrateful, and alludin'2; to the causes that were less honorable 
in the sentiment, and that were discreditable to us, and that operated 
so fatally to the reduction and exasperation of the American contest, 
the first was, I think, a deplorable ignorance of or inattention to the 



AMERICAN WAR. 559 

great leading principles of political economy. The resv;lt of tliis 
ignorance or inattention was an indisposition to listen to the argu- 
ments of those -svho laid down, from time to time, and explained the 
proper manner in which colonies might become sources of revenue to 
the mother country, — not by means of taxes and taxgatherers, but 
by the interchange of their appropriate products, and by the exer- 
tions of the real revenue officers of every country, the merchants, 
farmers, and manufacturers. This was one of what I consider as the 
discreditable causes of the war on our part. 

Secondly, A very blind and indeed disgraceful selfishness, in the 
mere matter of money and payment of taxes ; this was another. It 
was hence that the country gentlemen of the House of Commons, and 
the landed interest of England, had actually the egregious folly to 
support ministers in their scheme of coercing America, from an ex- 
pectation that their own burdens, their land-tax, for instance, might 
be made lighter, or at least prevented from becoming heavier. 

Thirdly, An overweening national pride, not operating in its more 
honorable direction to beat off invaders, or repel the approach of in- 
sult or injustice, but in making us despise our enemy, vihfy the 
American character, and suppose that nothing could stand opposed 
to our own good pleasure, or resist the valor of our fleets and 
armies. 

Fourtlily, Very high principles of government : a disposition to 
push too far the rights of authority, — to insist too sternly on the ex- 
pediency of control, — to expect the duty of submission to laws with- 
out much inquiry into the exact reasonableness of their enactments. 
These high principles of government operated very fatally, when the 
question was, whether Great Britain could not only claim, but actual- 
ly exercise, sovereignty over the colonies of America ; whether the 
people of America could be constitutionally taxed by the Parliament 
of Great Britain, a Parliament in which it could have no representa- 
tives. 

Fifthly, A certain vulgarity of thinking on political sulyects, — nar- 
row, and what will commonly be found popular, notions in national 
concerns. In these last few words I might, perhaps, at once com- 
prehend all the causes I have already mentioned. It was thus that 
men like Mr. Burke, who drew their reasonings from philosophic 
principles of a general nature, were not comprehended or Avere disre- 
garded, while the most commonplace declaimer was applauded, and 
decided the different issues of the dispute. 

Such were, I think, the causes, discreditable to us, which, without 
entering into any metaphysical niceties, may be said in a general 
manner to have led to the destruction of the British empire in Ameri- 
ca, as far as the legislators and people of England w^ere concerned. 
I will recapitulate them, because I mean to illustrate them in the en- 
suing lectures, on account of what I fancy to be their importance ; 



560 LECTURE XXXI. 

and I shall illustrate them, not bj selecting and endeavouring to dis- 
cuss and decide upon the different arguments and events that this 
contest produced, — this you must do yourselves, — but by reading 
passages from speeches and pamphlets, so as to give you, if possible, 
in a very short compass, the spirit of the whole ; but you must have 
the causes I have mentioned well infixed in your memory, that you 
may continually see the application of what I am reading, for I can- 
not stay to point it out. The causes, then, that I have mentioned 
were (those that were discreditable to us, I mean) an ignorance of 
political economy ; a mere blind, disgraceful money selfishness ; an 
overweening national pride ; high principles of government ; and a 
certain vulgarity of thinking on political subjects. 

Before I proceed, I must stop to observe that it would now be very 
convenient to me, if I could consider you as already acquainted with 
the facts of this American dispute ; but as I know not that I can ex- 
actly presume upon this, you will be pleased to remember the follow- 
ing points, which I mention to render more intelligible the illustra- 
tions I am going to give of the positions I have laid down. 

First, then, Mr. George Grenville proposed to tax America in 
March, 1764, and in February, 1765, carried his measure to that 
efiect, the famous Stamp Act. A great sensation was occasioned in 
America ; but in June, 1765, Mr. Grenville went out of office, and 
the Rockingham administration came in. They rejjealed the Stamp 
Act early in the year 1766 ; but they passed at the same time a de- 
claratory bill, to assert the ri(/Jit of Great Britain to bind the colonies 
in all cases whatsoever. 

Here the dispute might to all appearance have terminated, but this 
ministry, being a Whig ministry, was, as Charles Townshend observ- 
ed, but a lutestring administration, and destined only to last through 
the spring. In July, 1766, as he had predicted, they were dismiss- 
ed. He himself came into office, and on some account or other re- 
vived the idea of the taxation of America. 

During the illness and inefficiency of Lord Chatham, who was the 
apparent head of the administration, certain duties were laid upon 
tea, among other articles: this happened in the year 1767. The 
Duke of Grafton and others then in the cabinet were guilty, not of 
advising these measures, but, what is the same thing on very impor- 
tant occasions, were guilty of not throwing up their places, when their 
opinions were overruled, ximerica was again greatly agitated. In 
1770, Lord North brought in his bill to repeal these duties; but he 
retained the duty on tea, that he might thus practically assert the 
right which Great Britain unfortunately continued to claim, the right 
of taxing America. 

Disturbances followed in the province of Massachusetts, — violent 
disturbances ; and General Gage, with a strong mihtary force, was sta- 
tioned at Boston, where the resistance had been the most outrageous : 



AMERICAN WAR. 56X 

at length Boston was shut up as a port. This happened in 1774. 
The Ameiicans liovered round General Gage ; the note of preparation 
of war, as he thought, sounded in his ears. He sent a detachment 
into the interior, to seize or destroy some miUtarj stores, and the 
first blood was shed in the affair at Lexington, in April, 1775. 

In June, 1775, the American intrenchment on Bunker's or Breed's 
.(Hill was forced, but not till half the detachment sent on the service 
lay killed or wounded on the field. Boston was afterwards evacuated. 
In 177G, General Howe took possession of New York ; and at one 
interval, the American General Washington seemed scarcely able to 
maintain before him the appearance of a regular army. But in the 
autumn of 1777, General Burgoyne and a royal army were totally 
captured, and this event induced the French to join the Americans 
early in 1778. Another royal army under Lord Cornwallis was in 
consequence captured also, in October, 1781. All idea of conquering 
America was then, in fact, abandoned, the ministry was at length 
changed, the peace was made, and the ximerican States were ac- 
knowledged independent in 1783. 

On the part of the Americans, you will observe that the first 
meeting of Congress was in September, 1774. They issued declara- 
tions ; drew up addresses to the king, the people of Great Britain, 
and the people of Canada ; then adjourned, and again met in May, 
1775. In July, 1776, they declared themselves independent. 

Such are a few of the leading facts of this memorable contest. 

I will now endeavour to exemplify what I have been laying down. 
I turn first to the debates of Parliament. 

It is remarkable enough, that the first mention of the Americans 
which occurs after the accession of his Majesty appears in a message 
from the king, recommending a proper compensation to be made to 
them for their expenses during the gi'eat war of 1750, expenses 
which must therefore have been thought more than proportionate to 
their natural ability, — a message higlily creditable both to the par- 
ent state and to the colonies. A few pages intervene, and then ap- 
pear among the ways and means of the session the unfortunate reso- 
lutions of Mr. George Grenville, in March, 1764, which laid the 
foundation for the subsequent civil war. In a few words was contain- 
ed the fatal resolve that tore asunder the empire of Great Britain, — 
" That towards further defraying the said expenses, it may be proper 
to charge certain stamp duties in the said colonies and plantations." 
Memorable words ! This was in 1764 ; and in a year after, in the 
spring of 1765, this resolution was formed into a law, which was call- 
ed the Stamp Act. In his Majesty's speech at the end of the same 
year, in 1765, almost the first words that occur ai*e these, — " Mat- 
ters of importance have lately occurred in some of my colonies in 
America." Matters of importance, no doubt ! America had re- 
sisted. 

71 



562 LECTURE XXXI. 

Mr. Grenvllle, the original mover of the taxation of America, -was 
now no longer in power ; but his speech in defence of the measure, 
and of his system, still remains ; so does that of the first Mr. Pitt, in 
opposition to both. I shall quote largely from these two ; for they 
contain all the important arguments, and may serve as specimens of 
the whole subject, and certainly of the reasonings that were then 
urged on the one side and on the other. The success of Mr. Gren- 
ville's reasonings illustrates, as I conceive, the positions I have laid 
down. It had been contended, you will observe, that taxes might be 
laid externally by Great Britain, to regulate trade, — duties, for in- 
stance, on imports and exports, — but not intermaUy, to raise revenue. 

" I cannot understand," said Mr. Grenville, " the difference be- 
tween external and internal taxes ; they are the same in effect, and 
only differ in name. That this kingdom has the sovereign, the su- 
preme, legislative power over America is granted ; it cannot be de- 
nied: and taxation is a part of that sovereign power. It is one 
branch of the legislation. It is, it has been, exercised over those 
who are not, who were never, represented. It is exercised over the 
India Company, the merchants of London, the proprietors of the 
stocks, and over many great manufacturing towns. It was exercised 
over the palatinate of Chester, and the bishopric of Durham, before 

they sent any representatives to Parliament Great Britain 

protects America ; America is bound to yield obedience. If not, tell 

me when the Americans were emancipated The nation has 

run itself into an immense debt to give them their protection ; and 
now they are called upon to contribute a small share towards the 
pubhc expense, an expense arising from themselves, they renounce 
your authority, insult your officers, and break out, I might almost 
say, into open rebellion. The seditious spirit of the colonies owes 
its birth to the factions in this house. Gentlemen are careless 
of the consequences of what they say, provided it answers the pur- 
poses of opposition I have been abused in all the pubhc 

papers as an enemy to the trade of America I discouraged 

no trade but what was ilhcit, what was prohibited by act of Parha- 
ment." 

The great orator of England rose in reply. " I have been charg- 
ed," said Mr. Pitt, " with giving birth to sedition in America 

Sorry I am to hear the liberty of speech in this house imputed as a 
crime ; but the imputation shall not discourage me. It is a liberty I 
mean to exercise ; no gentleman ought to be afraid to exercise it. 
It is a liberty by which the gentleman Avho calumniates it might have 
profited ; he ought to have profited ; he ought to have desisted from 
his project. 

" The gentleman tells us, America is obstinate, America is almost 
in open rebellion. I rejoice that America has resisted. Three millions 
of people so dead to all the feelings of liberty as voluntarily to submit 



AMERICAN WAR. 563 

to be slaves would have been fit instruments to make slaves of the 
rest 

" Why did the gentleman confine himself to Chester and Durham ? 
He might have taken a higher example in Wales, — Wales, that 

never was taxed by Parhament till it was incorporated The 

gentleman tells us of many who are taxed, and are not represented, — 
the India Company, merchants, stockholders, manufacturers. Surely, 
many of these are represented in other capacities, as owners of land, or 
as freemen of boroughs. It is a misfortune that more are not actual- 
ly represented ; but they are all inhabitants, and, as such, are virtu- 
ally represented. Many have it in their option to be actually repre- 
sented ; they have connections with those that elect, and they have 
influence over them 

" The gentleman boasts of his bounties to America ! Are not those 
bounties intended finally for the benefit of this kingdom ? 

" If the gentleman does not understand the difference between in- 
ternal and external taxes, I cannot help it ; but there is a plain dis- 
tinction between taxes levied for the purposes of raising a revenue, 
and duties imposed for the regulation of trade, for the accommodation 
of the subject ; although, in the consequences, some revenue might 
incidentally arise from the latter. 

" The gentleman asks. When were the colonies emancipated ? But 

I desire to know when they were made slaves The profits to 

Great Britain from the trade of the colonies, through all its branches, 

is two millions a year This is the price that America pays 

you for her protection. And shall a miserable financier come with a 
boast that he can fetch a peppercorn into the exchequer, to the loss 
of millions to the nation ? 

" The whole commercial system of America may be altered to ad- 
vantage You have but two nations to trade with in America ; 

would you had twenty ! Let acts of Parliament in consequence of 
treaties remain ; but let not an English minister become a custom- 
house officer for Spain, or for any foreign power 

" In a good cause, on a sound bottom, the force of this country can 
crush America to atoms. I know the valor of your troops ; I know the 

skill of your officers But on this ground, on the Stamp Act, 

when so many here will think it a crying injustice, I am one who will 
lift up my hands against it. In such a cause your success would be 
hazardous. America, if she fell, would fall like the strong man ; she 
would embrace the pillars of the state, and pull down the constitu- 
tion along with her 

" The Americans have not acted in all things with prudence and 
temper. They have been wronged ; they have been driven to mad- 
ness by injustice. Will you punish them for the madness you have 
occasioned ? Rather let prudence and temper come first from this 
side ; I will undertake for America that she will follow the ex- 
ample 



564 LECTURE XXXI. 

" ' Be to her faults a little blind ; 
Be to her virtues very kind.' 

" Upon the whole, I Ayill beg leave to tell the House what is really 
my opinion. It is, that the Stamp Act be repealed, absolutely, total- 
ly, and immediately ; that the reason for the repeal be assigned, be- 
cause it was founded on an erroneous principle. At the same time, 
let the sovereign authority of this country over the colonies be assert- 
ed in as strong terms as can be devised, and be made to extend to 
every point of legislation whatsoever : that we may bind their trade, 
confine their manufactures, and exercise every power whatsoever, ex- 
cept that of taking their money out of their pockets without their 
consent." 

Such is a slight outline of what the greatest of our orators is under- 
stood to have delivered on this critical occasion. Now the sentiments 
that were popular, and the opinions that were thought wise, were not 
those of Mr. Pitt, but of Mr. Grenville : and it is on tliis account that 
I have thought it necessary to endeavour to explain the small views 
and mercenary, unworthy, and unconstitutional feelings of the English 
people and their statesmen at this particular time ; holding them up 
as a warning to ourselves, from a very strong suspicion, which, I 
must confess, I entertain, that, on any similar occasion, our own views 
and feelings would be equally wanting in true philosophy, and in 
proper sympathy with the genuine doctrines even of our own constitu- 
tional liberty. 

The positions I have laid down are still further illustrated, because 
it must be observed, that the ministers and people of England had 
sufficient information and sufficient warning from a few of the more 
enlightened members of both houses, and from other sources. 

" When the resolution," says Mr. Pitt, so early as December, 
1765,* " was taken in the House to tax America, I was ill in bed. If 
I could have endured to have been carried in my bed, so great was 
the agitation of my mind for the consequences, I would have solicited 
some kind hand to have laid me down on this floor, to have borne my 
testimony against it." 

This was said by Lord Chatham, I must repeat, so early as Decem- 
ber, 1765,* — not 1775, when the troubles had broken out : and so early 
as February, 1766, ten years before the declaration of independence. 
Dr. Franklin was examined at the bar of the House, and he declared 
(I quote from his answers) that the authority of Parliament was al- 
lowed to be valid in all laws, except such as should lay internal taxes : 
that it was never disputed in laying duties to regulate commerce : 
that the Americans would never submit to the Stamp Act, or to any 
other tax on the same principle : that North America would contribute 
to the support of Great Britain, if engaged in a war in Europe. 

The whole of this examination is worth reading. The Doctor 

* Jan. 14, 1766. See Hansard's Parliamentary History, xvi. 98. — N. 



AMERICAN WAR. 565 

seems to have judged accurately, and to have given the House very 
seasonable advice on all the critical points which could then have 
divided the opinions of his hearers ; but the advice was vain, and this, 
I conceive, from the causes which I have enumerated. 

In 176G, the Stamp Act was repealed by the Rockingham adminis- 
tration, — the Whig administration, — and the dispute, in truth, put 
an end to ; they were therefore dismissed ; and when the idea of tax- 
ing America was revived by Charles ToAvnshend, so early as IMay, 
1767, Governor Pownall declared, that " it was a fact which the 
House ought to be apprised of in all its extent, that the people of 
America, universally, unitedly, and unalterably, were resolved not to 
submit to any internal tax imposed upon them, by any legislature in 
which they had not a share by representatives of their own election." 
" Does ministry," said he, " mean to propose the measure of impos- 
ing taxes on the colonies, and to force into execution the collection 
of them ? The whole system of the state government and inter- 
woven interest of the colonies is gone too far for that to be ■practica- 
ble We must reestabUsh our system on its old basis." Gov- 
ernor Pownall, it must be observed, had been a governor in America, 
and always spoke from personal knowledge. 

" I prophesied," says Colonel Barr(i, " on passing the Stamp Act, 
[in 1765,] what would happen thereon ; and I now, [in March, 
1769,] I now fear I can prophesy further troubles ; that, if the peo- 
ple are made desperate, finding no remedy from Parliament, the 
whole continent will be in arms immediately, and perhaps those prov- 
inces lost to England for ever." This was in March, 1769, and cer- 
tainly a very remarkable prediction. 

In February, 1769, "The Americans," said Governor Pownall, 
" do universally, invariably, and unalterably declare, that they ought 
not to submit to any internal taxes imposed upon them by any legis- 
lature wherein they have not representatives of their own election." 
" The sUghtest circumstance," he continued, " would, in a moment, 
throw every thing into confusion and bloodshed ; and if some mode 
of policy does not interpose to remove this exertion of military 
power, the union betAveen Great Britain and North America is 
broken for ever ; unless, what is worse, both are united in one com- 
mon ruin No military force can assess or collect ; it may 

raise a conti'ibution by military execution, — but that is not govern- 
ment, it is war." And again, " If you attempt to force taxes against 
the spirit of the people there, you will find, when perhaps it is too 
late, that they are of a spirit which will resist all force, which will 
grow stronger by being forced, will prove superior to all force, and 
ever has been unconquerable That spirit, which led their an- 
cestors to break ofi" from every thing wluch is near and dear to the 

human heart, has but a slight and trifling sacrifice to make at 

this time : they have not to quit their native country, but to defend 

y V 



566 LECTURE XXXI. 

it ; tliey have not to forsake their friends and relations, but to unite 

"with and to stand by them in one common union They will 

abominate as sincerely as they now love you In one word, if 

this spirit of fanaticism should once arise upon the idea of persecu- 
tion, those people, whom Great Britain hath to this hour drawn as it 
were with a thread, and whom it has governed with a little paper 
and packthread, you will not for the future be able to govern it with 
a rod of iron ; and every benefit which this country has derived from 
that country will be stopped at every source. If it be not the humor 
of the House to believe this at present, I only beg they will remember 
it has been said, and that they are forewarned of it." 

The House was impatient, it seems, (Avhat are we to say of the 
folly of such impatience ?) while this member of their body, with the 
wisdom of a statesman, and the spirit of a prophet, proceeded to 
warn them of their mistakes, and represent to them the conduct 
which they were bound in justice and in policy to pursue. It was in 
vain that he concluded with these memorable words : — " Resume 

again the spirit of your old policy Do nothing which may bring 

into discussion questions of right Go into no innovations in 

practice, and suffer no encroachments on government. Extend not 
the power which you have of imposing taxes to the laying internal 
taxes on the colonies. Continue to exercise the power which you 
have already exercised, of laying subsidies, imposts, and duties ; but 
exercise this, as you have always hitherto done, with prudence and 

moderation, and directed by the spirit of commercial wisdom 

Exert the spirit of policy, that you may not ruin the colonies and 
yourselves by exerting force." 

Mr. Pitt spoke to the same effect, and denied the right of the 
mother country to tax America. 

" There is no medium to be observed," said George Grenville (this 
was in March, 17G9) ; " we must either resolve strictly to execute 
the revenue laws in America, or else with a good grace give up our 
right entirely." — " There is a proper medium," said Mr. Burke ; 
" we have an undoubted right to tax them, but the expediency of 
putting that right in execution should be very evident before any 
thing of that sort be passed." 

In May,* 1769, Governor Pownall most wisely moved to repeal the 
revenue acts in North America. He insisted on the wisdom of the 
old system, the folly of the experiment of the new one, that of inter- 
nal taxation. " Matters," said he, " are now brought to a crisis at 
which they never will be again ; if this occasion is now lost, it is lost 
for ever. If this session elapses with Parliament's doing nothing, 
American affairs will perhaps be impracticable for ever after." — This 
was in May,* 1769. — " You may exert power over, but you can never 

* Hansard (Pai-1. Hist.) leaves the date uncertain ; but an entry in die Commons 
Journals (xxxii. 421), apparently refemng to this matter, places it on the 19th of 



AMERICAN WAR. 567 

govern, an unwilling people ; tliey will be able to obstruct and pervert 
every effort of your policy. — Their obedience is now, at this crisis, 
at the very lowest point that it ever will be. On the other hand, your 
power is now at its height. — If you endeavour to press them down 
but one hair's breadth lower, like a spring they will fly all to pieces, 
and they Avill never be brought to the same point again." He ar- 
gued in vain, — for, though the House seemed affected by his reason- 
ings, the ministers talked of the late time of the session, and the gov- 
ernor's motion was put off. 

In 1770, Lord North moved the repeal of several offensive duties; 
but retained the tea tax, to evidence the right. It was in vain that 
Governor Pownall and others remonstrated that this Avould leave the 
merchants of America still in a state of hostility with us, resorting to 
their non-importation associations ; that the right of taxation, not the 
quantity of the tax, was the point of interest to them. " The mer- 
chants," he said, " in America and in England are the links of the 

chain that binds both countries together Whatever opinion 

we may superficially entertain of the operation and effect of our 
sovereign government, commerce, and intercommunion of our mutual 
wants and supplies, is the real power and spirit of attraction Avhich 
keeps us united. The operation of this has been and is at present 
suspended. The repeal of the whole of this act, which relates to the 
laying duties for the purpose therein specified, will alone take off this 
suspension, and cement again our union by the best and surest princi- 
ple. The getting back to this intercommunion will give us grounds 
of agreement, and may, upon those grounds, lead again to that happy 
spirit of government, under which the people knew no bounds to their 
confidence, no scruples in their obedience, and under which govern- 
ment led the people almost by enchantment." 

But in whatever point of view this subject could be placed, and on 
every different occasion, the effect was the same. It was determined 
to insist on the taxation of America. 

In April, 1774, " I know," said Colonel Barre, " the vast superi- 
ority of your disciplined troops over the provincials ; but beware how 

you supply the want of discipline by desperation Ask their 

aid in a constitutional manner, and they will give it to the utmost of 

their ability ; they never yet refused it, when properly required 

What madness is it that prompts you to attempt obtaining that by 
force which you may more certainly procure by requisition ? They 
may be flattered into any thing, but they are too much like yourselves 
to be driven. Have some indulgence for your own likeness ; respect 
their sturdy English virtue ; retract your odious exertions of authori- 

April ; and this is confinned by a passage in a letter from Dr. Franklin to Dr. Cooper, 

of Boston, dated Loudon, 27 April, 1769 : — " Your late governor, Mr. ro>\niall, 

moved last week for a repeal of the acts. but did not succeed. A friend has 

favored me with a copv of the notes taken of Mr. Pownall's speech." Works, ed. 
Sparks, vii. 43S-442 — N. 



568 LECTURE XXXI. 

ty ; and remember that the first step towards making them contribute 
to your wants is to reconcile them to your government." 

Mr. Fox, then a young man, observed, that, if the tax was per- 
sisted in, the country would be forced into open rebelhon. Lord 
North, on the contrary, that we had only to be firm and resolved, 
and obedience would be the result. The tea duty was therefore in- 
sisted upon by one hundred and eighty-two to forty-nine. It was in- 
sisted upon for the purposes of sovereignty and revenue, — and both 
sovereignty and revenue were from that moment gone for ever. 

Injustice produces resistance, and one coercive measure is sure to 
be followed by another ; the usual progress of harsh government. 
The province of Massachusetts had resisted, and therefore, in the 
April of 1774, Lord North brought in his bill for taking away the 
charter, and introducing a less popular form of government. " The 
Americans," said he, " have tarred and feathered your subjects, 
plundered your merchants, burnt your ships, denied all obedience to 
your laws and authority ; yet so clement and so long-forbearing 
has our conduct been, that it is incumbent on us now to take a 
different course." But on the contrary, said Governor Pownall in 
reply, (observe how prophetic was this reply,) " I told this house 
(it is now four years past) that the people of America would resist 
the tax which lay then upon them ; that they would not oppose 
power to your power, but that they would become impracticable. 
Have they not been so from that time to this very hour ? I tell 
you now, that they will resist the measures now pursued in a 

more vigorous way The committees of correspondence in the 

different provinces are in constant communication They will 

next hold a conference ; and to what these committees, thus met in 
congress, will grow up, I will not say. Should matters ever come 
to arms, you will hear of other officers than those appointed by your 
governors. When matters once come to that, it will be, as it was in 
the late civil wars of this country, of little consequence to dispute 
who were the aggressors ; that will be merely matter of opinion. It 
is of more consequence, at this moment, so to act, to take such meas- 
ures, that no such misfortune may come into event." 

" My lords," said Lord Chatham, in 1774, " this country is little 
obliged to the framers and promoters of this tea tax. The Ameri- 
cans had almost forgot, in their excess of gratitude for the repeal of 

the Stamp Act, any interest but that of the mother country 

This temper would have continued, had it not been interrupted by 

your fruitless endeavours to tax them without their consent 

I am an old man, and would advise the noble lords in office to adopt 

a more gentle mode of governing America Such proceedings 

will never meet their wished-for success Instead of those 

harsh and severe proceedings, pass an amnesty on all their youthful 
errors ; clasp them once more in your fond and affectionate arms ; 



AMERICAN WAR. 569 

and I will venture to affirm, you will find them children Avorthy of 
their sire. But should their turbulence exist after your proffered 
terms of forgiveness, which I hope and expect this house will immedi- 
ately adopt, I will be among the foremost of your lordships to move 
for such measures as will effectually prevent a future relapse, and 
make them feel what it is to provoke a fond and forgiving parent, — 
a parent, my lords, whose welfare has ever been my greatest and 
most pleasing consolation. This declaration may seem unnecessary ; 
but I will venture to declare, the period is not far distant when she 
will want the assistance of her most distant friends. But should the 
all-disposing hand of Providence prevent me from affording her my 
poor assistance, my prayers shall be ever for her welfare. Length 
of days be in her right hand, and in her left hand riches and honor ! 
May her ways be ways of pleasantness, and all her paths be peace ! " 

But neither could ministers listen in one house to the excellent 
sense and local information of Governor Pownall, nor be moved in the 
other by these affecting appeals of Lord Chatham, — by these effu- 
sions of a generous and magnanimous spirit, the true and only source 
of all eloquence commanding as his. 

I had made many other extracts to the same purport as those now 
given, but I omit them, for my lecture is already too long. You will 
look at the examination of Mr. Penn, at the speeches of Mr. Wilkes, 
Mr. Fuller, and others, and at the speech of Sergeant Adair, in Oc- 
tober, 1775. I can only now refer you to them ; the notices I have 
already taken of the debates in the houses are suflficiently strong and 
numerous to indicate how wise and prophetic was the general strain 
of those who resisted the measure of coercion and taxation, so long 
and so unhappily persevered in from the unfortunate dismission of the 
Rockingham administration. 

And why these prophecies were uttered in vain, and why this sys- 
tem was either originally adopted, or afterwards pursued, with the 
general countenance of the people of this country, can only, I think, 
be thoroughly explained, first, by a reference to the sentiment which 
I first alluded to, — an opinion that our cause was just, that the 
Americans were rebellious and ungrateful ; and, secondly, very dis- 
creditably (to us), by a reference to such causes as I have enu- 
merated, — ignorance of pohtical economy, blind selfishness, national 
pride, high principles of government, and, on the Avhole, a certain 
vulgarity of thinking on political subjects, which if I could prepare 
your minds hereafter to avoid, I confess, I should consider as one of 
the greatest objects which these lectures could accomplish. 



72 vv 



670 LECTURE XXXIL 



LECTURE XXXII. 



AMERICAN WAR. 

In the lecture of yesterday, I endeavoured to state to you, in the 
first place, the interest that belongs to the subject of the American 
war. I next reminded you of the general principles that belong to 
the subject of nations connected with each other, — a parent state 
and colonies, for instance ; such general principles as I had submitted 
to your consideration when I treated of the Union with Scotland. I 
then enumerated to you the original works which I thought you might 
consult ; then those which you might read ; then those, lastly, which 
must be read, which are entirely indispensable. 

I then proceeded to state to you what had been the causes that, as 
far as the ministers and people of England were concerned, had led 
to this important contest. The first of these causes I stated to be 
one not in its sentiment discreditable to us : a general notion in the 
English nation that their cause was just ; that the sovereignty was in 
the parent state ; that in this right was included the right of taxation ; 
and that, as we had protected the Americans from France, they were 
ungrateful as well as rebellious. But I then proceeded to state that 
this sentiment would never have produced the American war, if not 
excited and exasperated by other considerations. These other re- 
maining causes of the American war I considered as very discreditable 
to us ; and I first stated them, and endeavoured to illustrate them by 
quotations from the different speeches of remarkable men at the time, 
in the debates of the two houses. 

To-day I mean to illustrate them by a reference to a few of the 
best pamphlets that appeared. But you will observe, that to-day, as 
yesterday, I cannot stay to weigh and contrast the relative merit and 
value of each argument, nor can I stay to point out the application 
of what I am reading to the causes whose operation I am anxious to 
illustrate. This you must do yourselves. I think it, therefore, best 
on many accounts, more particularly for the accommodation of those 
who might be absent yesterday, and at the hazard of appearing tedi- 
ous to many of those who were present, once more to state what 
those causes were. Those causes, I must repeat it again and again, 
were highly discreditable to the ministers and people of this country. 

I am compelled to believe, that, if similar questions were to come 
before us to-morrow, we should be not much better or wiser than 
those who went before us. Now when we read history, we do noth- 
ing, unless we convert it to some purposes of moral discipline. It 
seems eternally forgotten, that men, in their collective capacity as 



AMERICAN WAR. 571 

nations, may be, and often are, guilty of the same follies, faults, and 
crimes that they can commit as individuals in the common relations 
of social life ; that they may be just as ill-humored, or resentful, or 
unreasonable, or ferocious, or wicked ; that their good or bad passions 
enter with them into cabinets, and senates, and public meetings, just 
as they do into drawing-rooms, or studies, or their family dining- 
rooms. He is not likely to speak a language very agreeable, who 
either in the one case or the other assumes the office of a censor ; but 
it is the proper office, not unfrequently, of a lecturer on history, for 
it is the great office of history itself ; and therefore I shall now once 
more state (that you may in tliis and the succeeding lectures see the 
application of what I read) the causes which I yesterday mentioned 
as operating' so fatally and so disgracefully to the people of Great 
Britain on this memorable occasion. Stated in as few words as pos- 
sible, they were these : — 

The first cause was an ignorance of, or inattention to, the great 
leading principles of political economy. Secondly, high, overween- 
ing national pride. Thirdly, a mean and unworthy money selfish- 
ness. Fourthly, high principles of government. Fifthly, a certain 
vulgarity of thinking on political subjects. 

I now proceed to illustrate the operation of these causes by a 
reference to some of the pamphlets that appeared during this un- 
happy contest. 

One of the most celebrated political writers of the time was Tucker, 
the Dean of Gloucester. He comes not entirely within the descrip- 
tion I have given of the majority of the statesmen and people of Eng- 
land, for he Avas far superior to most of his contemporaries in the sci- 
ence of political economy. He was a zealous advocate for the sys- 
tem of free trade, and boldly advised that the Americans should be 
left to themselves, sa}^ng very wisely (very foolishly, as it Avas then 
thought), that we should have the benefit of their commerce, whether 
they were our colonies or not ; for our skill, our industry, and our 
capital, he insisted, would always give us a preference in every mar- 
ket, and that these were the secrets of our commercial prosperity, not 
the bounties and drawbacks of the custom-house or the monopolies of 
colonization ; that the Americans would be our customers, Avhether 
independent or not. 

Here, hoAvever, the superior and the memorable wisdom of Tucker 
seems to me to have ceased. By one of those strange inconsistencies 
of which the human mind is capable, the same man who Avas pene- 
trating and liberal, where the riches of a commimity were concerned, 
Avas narrow and harsh, A\'ithout elevation and Avithout refinement, 
Avhere the still dearer riches of a community, the free principles of 
its government, Avere brought into question. He Avould have set free 
the American States on the genuine principles of the free system of 
trade, which he had adopted ; but on the genuine principles of arbi- 



572 LECTURE XXXIL 

trary rule, which he had also adopted, he would have bound their 
leaders in chains, and their patriots in links of iron. Of his Tracts, 
which are all worth reading, the Fourth was meant to show the wis- 
dom of parting with the colonies entirely, and then making leagues 
of friendship with them as with so many independent states : a bold 
idea to be conceived so early as 1766,* and very happily contrasted, 
for the credit of the dean, with the paltry notions on government with 
which his works abound. 

Of the Third Tract, which is full of the notions I have taken upon 
me to censure, I will now endeavour to give you a specimen, as more 
immediately to our present purpose, and as descriptive, I have no 
doubt, of the reasonings of most of the people of England at that 
time.f 

"What is it you mean," said the dean, addressing a supposed 
nephew in America, " by repeating to me so often in every letter. 
The spint of the constitution ? xiccording to this spirit, an Ameri- 
can insists that he ought not to be taxed without his own consent, 
given either by himself or by a representative in Parliament chosen 
by himself. Why ought he not ? And doth the constitution say, in 
so many words, that he ought not ? or doth it say that every man 
either hath, or ought to have, or was intended to have, a vote 
for a member of Parliament ? No, by no means ; the constitution 
says no such thing. — ' But the spirit of it doth.' — But observe. 
Magna Charta is the basis of the English constitution. But, by the 
spirit of Magna Charta, all taxes laid on by Parliament are constitu- 
tional, legal taxes. Now the late tax of duties upon stamps was laid 
on by Parliament, and therefore, according to your own way of rea- 
soning, must have been a regular, constitutional, legal tax. 

" Let us from the spirit of the constitution come to the constitu- 
tion itself. The first emigrants who settled in America were cer- 
tainly English subjects, subject to the laws and jurisdiction of Parlia- 
ment, and consequently to Parliamentary taxes, before their emigror 
tion ; and therefore subject afterwards, unless some legal, consti- 
tutional exemption can be produced. If you have it, why do not 
you produce it ? — ' The king,' you say, ' hath granted charters of 
exemption to the American colonies.' — Could he legally and consti- 
tutionally grant you such a charter ? Did he ever so much as at- 
tempt to do it ? 

" What is it which you have next to offer ? ' 0, the unreasonable- 
ness, the injustice, and the cruelty of taxing a free people, without per- 

* First printed in 1774. The date given in the text, 1766, is that of the Third 
Tract. Rich's Bib. Amer. Nova, p. 203. — N. 

t The quotations here given from Dean Tucker are so much in the nature of a mere 
analysis of his Tract, that any attempt to note tlie breaks would greatly encumber the 
page, and serve only to emban-ass the reader. The same remark will apply also to a 
large ])art of the extracts which follow from other authors. It is thought best, there- 
fore, in these cases, to dispense mth the usual marks of interruption. — N. 



AMERICAN WAR. 573 

mitdng them to have representatives of 4;heir own to answer for them, 
and to maintain their fundamental rights and privileges ! ' — Strange, 
that, though the British Parliament has been from the begimiing thus 
unreasonable, thus unjust and cruel towards you, by levying taxes on 
many commodities outwards and inwards, — strange that you did not 
discover these bad tilings before ! And what a pity it is that you have 
been slaves for so many generations, and yet did not know that you 
were slaves until now ! 

" Pray what are these constitutional rights and liberties which are 
refused to you ? You cannot have the face to assert, that, on an 
election day, any difference is put between the vote of a man born 
in America and of one born here in England. But the cause of 
your complaint is this, — that you live at too great a distance from 
the mother country to be present at our English elections. If you 
yourselves do choose to make it inconvenient for you to come and 
vote, by retiring into distant countries, what is that to us ? Grant- 
ing that the colonies are unrepresented in the British ParUament ; 
so are six millions, at least, of the inhabitants of Great Britain. Yet 
we raise no commotions, but submit to be taxed without being repre- 
sented, and taxed too, let me tell you, for your sakes. Suppose, 
however, an augmentation to take place in our House of Commons ; 
our two milhons represented have five hundred and fifty-eight mem- 
bers, and therefore our six millions unrepresented will recjuire one 
thousand six hundred and seventy-four, and your two millions, five 
hundred and fifty-eight more ; in all, two thousand seven lumdred and 
ninety : a goodly number, truly ! the decency and order of such 
an assembly ! 

" But the complaint itself of being unrepresented is entirely false 
and gi'oundless. We are all represented. Every member of Par- 
liament represents you and me, and our public interests, in all 
essential points, just as much as if we had voted for him. But per- 
haps you will say, he will regard that most which can best promote 
his own interest. It may be so. What system can there be de- 
vised but may be attended with inconveniences and imperfections in 
some respect or other ? 

" ' But the inexpediency,' you say, ' and excessiveness of such 
a tax ! ' — Excessiveness depends upon the relative poverty and in- 
ability of those who arc to pay it. But the fact is, that, when we 
raise about eight milhons of money annually upon eight millions of 
persons, we expect that you would conti'ibute one hundred thousand 
pounds to be raised on two millions ; that is, we pay twenty shillings 
per head, and you one shilling ! Blush, blush for shame," &c., &c. 

" Upon the whole, therefore, what is the cause of such an amazing 
outcry ? Not the stamp duty itself ; this is a mere sham and pre- 
tence. You are exasperated against the mother country on account 
of the revival of certain restrictions laid upon your trade. An 



574 LECTURE XXXIL 

American will ever complain and smuggle, and smuggle and com- 
plain, till all restraints are removed. Any thing short of this is still 
a grievance, a badge of slavery, an usurpation on the natural rights 
and liberties of a free people, and I know not how many bad things 
besides. 

" Your second grievance is, that you are sorely concerned that you 
cannot pay your British debts with an American sponge. An intol- 
erable grievance this," &c., &c. 

" Your third grievance is the sovereignty of Great Britain. For 
you want to be independent," &c., &c. 

" In short, the sword is the only choice which you will permit us 
to make. I do not think that we have any cause to fear the event. 
A British army will hardly fly before an American mob. Yet I am 
not for having recourse to mihtary operations. 

" If we oblige you to pay your debts, and then have no further 
connection with you as a dependent state or colony, under the press- 
ures and calamities that would ensue, your deluded countrymen will 
certainly open their eyes at last, will heartily wish and petition to be 
again united to the mother country," &c., &c. 

Such were the reasonings of the Dean of Gloucester. I wiU now 
turn to a pamplilet of another description, written by Kobinson, of 
which the expostulations and arguments were, I conclude, thought at 
the time as idle and unreasonable, by the generality of men, as the 
dean's were thought judicious and convincing. The author writes in 
May, 1774,* just at the time when Lord North had carried liis Boston 
Port Bill, &c., &c. 

" The opposition and disturbances," says he, " on the one hand, 
and the violent laws, motions, and preparations on the other, all un- 
doubtedly proceed from our having taxed the colonies without their 
consent. The right itself of this measure is in question, as well as 
the expediency of it. 

" The inhabitants of the colonies have, by many and various means, 
acquired many and various sorts of property. They have a right to 
freedom in their governments, and to security in their persons and 
properties ; none are warranted to deprive or dispossess them of these 
things. These principles are with us common and pubhc ; they were 
the principles of our ancestors, and are the principles which such men 
as Mr. Locke, Lord Molesworth, and Mr. Trenchard maintained with 
their pens, Mr. Hampden and Lord John Russell with their blood, 
and INIr. Algernon Sidney with both. They are likewise the real 
principles of our present actual government, the principles of the 
Revolution, and those on which are established the throne of the king 
•and the settlement of the illustrious family now reigning over us. 

* The pamphlet refeiTed to (entitled Considerations on the Measures cairying on 
with Respect to tlie British Colonies in North America) bears the date of Apnl, 1774. 
See also p. 577, post. — N. 



AMERICAN WAR. 575 

" Suppose one person to have in his pocket an hundred pounds, but 
another to have the right to take it from him and to put it into his 
own pocket, or to do with it what he pleases ; to whom does that money 
belong ? 

" But in the case of the Americans, if it is said that the money 
raised on them is to be employed for their own benefit, in their civil 
ser^^ce, or military defence, let me ask, then, "Who are to determine 
whether any money is at all wanted for such purposes, — they who 
pay it, or they who take it ? They who take it. Who are to deter- 
mine the quantity wanted, — how often it is wanted, — whether it is 
really laid out in the purposes pretended ? Still they who take it. 

" Is this, then, on the one hand, a reasonable ground whereon to 
throw the mother country and her North American colonies into the 
most deadly feuds, and perhaps a direct war with one another ? Is 
it not, on the other hand, a proposition contrary to the principles 
whereon our forefathers defended, and under the sanction of which 
they have delivered down to us, the rights and properties w^hich Eng- 
lishmen now enjoy ? 

" Our colonies are content that we should at our pleasure regulate 
their trade, but they deny that we shall tax them. Why cannot we 
content us with the line drawn by themselves ? 

" But may not they in time extend their objections to this also ? 
All the whole of our colonies must, no doubt, one day, without force 
or violence, fall off from the parent state. But why should we shake 
the fruit unripe from the tree, because it will of course drop off when 
it shall in due season have become fit and ripe for that purpose ? 

" There are, no doubt, in all governments, many most important 
points unsettled and undetermined. It is very much the part of 
every prudent ruler to avoid with the utmost care and solicitude all 
measures which may possibly bring any such critical circumstances 
into public debate and dispute. 

" The present accursed question between us and our colonies, how 
long was it unknown or unthought of ! Wlao heard of it, from the 
first rise of those settlements, until a very few years ago ? But it is 
now already setting at work fleets and armies," &c., &c. 

" The claim of the Americans not to be taxed by us here in Eng- 
land rests on the special constitution of Great Britain, which requires 
that representation should go along with taxation. However, it 
has been said that the Americans are in our Parliament virtually 
represented. How that should be, when they are not really so, I 
shall leave to be explained by those who advance it. Arguments 
tending to demonstrate that the House of Commons docs not, in 
its present state, represent us inhabiting here must be most strange 
ones to produce for the proving that it does represent our colonies 
lying beyond the Atlantic Ocean ; such points seem much more proper 
to raise scruples among ourselves at home than to satisfy and appease 
those of people abroad. 



576 LECTURE XXXII. 

" But is there any medium ? Must not we eitlier rigorously en- 
force obedience from our colonies or at once generously declare them 
free and independent of all allegiance to the cro\vn of Great Britain ? 
To which I answer, If there is a medium between Great Britain and 
Ireland, why may there not be also between Great Britain and North 
America ? 

" But I may be told that the great do everywhere bear hard on 
the little, the strong on the weak ; that our debts are very heavy, 
and our resources but too nearly at an end ; that we have yet 
fleets and armies, and are determined to bend to our will our colonies 
of America, and to make them subservient to our wants and occar 
sions. I answer, that you cannot force them. What expectation or 
probability can there be of sending from hence armies capable to 
conquer and subdue so great a force of men, defending and defended 
by such a continent ? — But are they united among themselves ? In 
the cause of not being taxed by us, it is well undei'stood how much 
they are so. How can we expect otherwise ? They are not unac- 
quainted with the history of the mother country. — But what if one or 
more of the greatest powers in Eui-ope should in a most critical and 
difficult moment declare war against us ? Have France and Spain 
forgot the loss of Canada and Georgia ? Were the cabinets of Ver- 
sailles and Madrid united in council, what measure would they drive 
and push us upon before this very one which we are now of ourselves 
so fatally and so madly running upon ? 

" Instead of taxing, give a greater liberty and latitude of trade, 
both to Ireland and to America, to America including our West 
India islands. The riches and treasure of the more distant and de- 
pendent parts of our empire cannot fail to flow in upon us. We 
have nothing to do with httle jealousies about this trade or that manu- 
facture. Freedom of trade is our foundation. This must enrich the 
centre of empire, and cannot therefore hkewise but increase its reve- 
nue. 

" The stopping up the port of Boston, the new laws given to 
Massachusetts Bay, will, no doubt, be received in America as a 
declaration of war, and depend upon the same Issue ; it must be by 
force and conquest, if they submit. It is probably not a month 
or a year that will finally determine this affair. The authors of 
these measures, no doubt, expect that the removal of the custom- 
house and the suspension of the trade of Boston will bring these peo- 
ple on their knees. They may nevertheless find themselves much 
mistaken in the event. 

" Some say that all the contradiction and opposition of America 
originates from home, and that it is only the faction of England which 
catches there. Nothing, perhaps, testifies a greater ignorance of 
the true state of that country than such a notion. Let any man 
place himself in America ; imagine himself born, bred, resident, and 



AMERICAN WAR. 677 

having all his concerns and fortune there. Let then any sucli man 
candidly and fairly ask himself in his own breast, what he should in 
that situation think of being taxed at Westminster." 

Such is the general strain of this pamphlet, written in April, 1774 ; 
and in November of the same year an appendix was added. " Time 
and events," says the author, " have, in the short intervening space 
of seven months, but too plainly and too strongly confirmed my opin- 
ions." He then goes on to describe the fulfilment of his prophecies, 
to contrast the language that was held by others with the event, and 
to recommend that any propositions that might come from Congress 
might be made the ground of a future settlement. lie observed, that 
" Charles the First granted ten times more at last than would have 
contented and have satisfied at first"; and he predicted that France 
and Spain would interfere against us, when we were, he said, " like a 
fish in a net, entangled beyond the power of getting free." These 
reasonings were addressed to the pubHc in vain. 

I will now give one representation more, in addition to Dean 
Tucker's, of arguments on the other side, such as were probably in 
the mouth of every man. The celebrated Dr. Johnson, a writer to 
whom the thoughtful and virtuous part of every community are so 
deeply indebted, one into whose pages no man ever looked for a 
single moment Avithout seeing something either to strike or improve ., 
him, — Dr. Johnson condescended to write a pamphlet, as others had 
done, — Taxation no Tyranny, — and his production exemplifies, as 
I conceive, every position which I have laid down. He was not, in- 
deed, ignorant of political economy, but on tliis occasion he disre- 
garded all its principles ; and having been originally a sort of Jaco- 
bite, and long habituated to lay down in a boisterous manner what are 
called Tory principles in church and state, the present was an occa- 
sion that could not fail to call forth all those particular opinions which 
so unhappily obscured and betrayed the great mind of this most re- 
spectable defender, on every other occasion, of the best interests of 
mankind. 

The pamphlet was published in 1775. After some prefatory re- 
marks, the Doctor arrives at the main point in dispute. " There are 
those who tell us that to tax the colonies is usurpation and oppres- 
sion, an invasion of natural and legal rights, and a violation of those 
principles wliich support the constitution of English government." 

With these positions of his opponents the Doctor struggles through 
many pages. He affirms, that " to him that considers the nature, 
the original, the progress, and the constitution of the colonies, it 
will not be doubted but the Parliament of England has a right to 
bind them by statutes, and to bind them in all cases whatsoever, and 
has therefore a natural and constitutional power of lajdng upon them 
any tax or impost, whether external or internal, for any end bene- 
ficial to the empire." 

73 w w 



578 LECTURE XXXII. 

" There are some," says he, " who except the power of taxation 
from the general dominion of Parhament." " Of this exception," 
says he, " which, by a head not fully impregnated with politics, is 
not easily comprehended, it is alleged, as an unanswerable reason, 
that the colonies send no representatives to the House of Commons." 
To this his answer is, that the argument proves too much ; that the 
right of making any other laws, civil or criminal, might be equally de- 
nied ; that this last power was never disputed ; and that the reception 
of any law draws after it the necessity of submitting also to taxation. 

" That a free man is governed by himself," he continues, " or by 
laws to which he has consented, is a position of mighty sound ; but 
every man that utters it feels it to be false. The business of the 
public must be done by delegation. The choice of delegates is made 
by a select number, and those who are not electors stand idle and 
helpless spectators. As all are born the subjects of some state or 
other, we may be said to have been all born consenting to some sys- 
tem of government. Other consent than this the condition of civil 
life does not allow ; it is the delirious dream of republican fanaticism. 
He who goes voluntarily to America cannot complain of losing what 
he leaves in Europe, He is represented, as himself desired, in the 
general representation. The colonists have not, by abandoning their 
part in one legislature, obtained the power of constituting another. 

" It is urged," says the Doctor, " that the Americans have not the 
same security, and that a British legislator may wanton with their 
property. Yet the Parliament has the same interest in attending to 
them as to any other part of the nation. We are as secure against 
intentional depravations of government as human wisdom can make 
us, and upon this security the Americans may venture to repose. 

" When they apply to our compassion, by telling us that they are to 
be carried from their own country, to be tried for certain offences, we 
are not so ready to pity them as to advise them not to oflFend. While 
they are innocent, they are safe. 

" When they tell of laws made expressly for their punishment, we 
answer, that tumults and sedition were always punishable, and that 
the new law prescribes only the mode of execution. 

" If frauds in the imposts of Boston are tried by commission with- 
out a jury, they are tried here in the same mode. If they are con- 
demned unheard, it is because there is no need of a trial ; the crime 
is manifest and notorious. All trial is the investigation of something 
doubtful. That the same vengeance involves the innocent and 
guilty is an evil to be lamented ; but human caution cannot prevent 
it, nor human power always redress it. To bring misery on those 
who have not deserved it is part of the aggregated guilt of rebel- 
lion. 

" When subordinate communities oppose the decrees of the general 
legislature with defiance thus audacious and malignity thus acrimoni- 



AMERICAN WAR. 579 

ous, nothing remains but to conquer or to yield, — to allow their claim 
of independence, or to reduce them by force to submission and allegi- 
ance. Yet there have risen up, in the face of the public, men 
■who, by whatever corruptions or whatever infatuation, have under- 
taken to defend the Americans, endeavour to shelter them from re- 
sentment, and propose reconciliation without submission, 

" The Dean of Gloucester has proposed, and seems to propose it 
seriously, that we should at once release our claims, declare them 
masters of themselves, and whistle them down the wind. It is, 
however, a little hard, that, having so lately fought and conquered 
for their safety, we should govern them no longer. One wild pro- 
posal is best answered by another. Let us restore to the French 
what we have taken from them. We shall see our colonists at our 
feet, when they have an enemy so near them. 

" It seems to be determined by the legislature that force shall be 
tried. I cannot forbear to msh that this commotion may end 
without bloodshed, and that the rebels may be subdued by terror 
rather than by violence ; and therefore recommend such a force as 
may take away, not only the power, but the hope, of resistance. 
If their obstinacy continues without actual hostilities, it may perhaps 
be mollified by turning out the soldiers to free quarters, forbidding 
any personal cruelty or hurt. It has been proposed that the slaves 
should be set free, — an act which surely the lovers of hberty cannot 
but commend. If they are furnished with fire-arms for defence, and 
utensils for husbandry, and settled in some simple form of govern- 
ment within the country, they may be more grateful and honest 
than their masters. Since the Americans have made it necessary 
to subdue them, may they be subdued with the least injury possible 
to their persons and their possessions. 

" We are told that the subjection of Americans may tend to the 
diminution of our own liberties, — an event wdiich none but very per- 
spicacious politicians are able to foresee. If slavery be thus fatally 
contagious, how is it that w^e hear the loudest yelps for hberty among 
the drivers of negroes ? " 

These few extracts from this celebrated pamphlet may give you 
some idea of the comprehensiveness of the Doctor's mind on such a 
subject as this, — of his notions of government in general, and more 
especially of the constitution of England, — and, when authority was 
to be enforced, of his humanity and of his wit. He seems ready to 
suppose that people were to be mollified by having soldiers living at 
free quarters among them, and to be brought to reason by seeing 
slaves let loose upon them ! Yet who can doubt that Johnson was a 
man of vigorous understanding, — that he was a friend to his coun- 
try, — that he was a well-Ansher to the best interests of the human 
race, — that he was a man of humanity and benevolence ? Is not 
he the great moralist of our country, — he who has rivalled his own 



580 LECTURE XXXII. 

beautiful praise of Addison, — " has taught virtue not to be ashamed, 
and even turned many to righteousness"*? Yet such is his pam- 
phlet ; so coarse in sentiment, so unkind in spirit, so defective in wis- 
dom. 

To those who are capable of meditating upon the nature of human 
feelings and human faculties, I know of no greater lesson than this 
production aifords, of the importance of our political notions, — of the 
necessity there is that they should be always made to refer to, at least 
that they should never lose sight of, the 'po'pular principles of the 
English constitution, — should be well laid down and bottomed, not 
only in respect for those who govern, but in tenderness for those who 
are to be governed, — in a deep sense of that equal justice which is 
to be administered to all human beings, whether near us or at a dis- 
tance, — of that patience and respect with which all those are to be 
listened to, of whatever climate or condition, who speak the language 
of freedom, or raise the voice of complaint. 

Compare with Dr. Johnson his friend Mr. Burke ; note the language 
of each on the same subject, considering at the same time the very 
eminent qualities that belonged to both, — vigor being found in 
the mind of the one as of the other, comprehensiveness, activity, 
liveliness, rapidity, the powers of imagination, and all the copious- 
ness of eloquence ; no ignorance in Mr. Burke, any more than 
in Dr. Johnson, of the necessity of obedience, of order, and of re- 
spect for rank and authority ; but the one properly impressed at the 
same time, by whatever means, which the other Avas not, with a sense 
of the paramount value of all those great fundamental principles 
which form the protection of the liberties of England. 

What were, then, the views and reasonings of Mr. Burke ? You 
will see them in the works that are published, though of many of his 
most brilliant speeches in the House of Commons no idea can now 
be formed. Those that are published must be your study ; and they 
cannot be too much your study, if you mean either to understand, 
or to maintain against its various enemies, open and concealed, de- 
signing and mistaken, the singular constitution of this fortunate island. 
As far as the subject of America is concerned, you should meditate 
well the la^t third of his pamphlet entitled " Observations on a Late 
PubUcation, intituled. The Present State of the Nation"; then, I 
think, his Letter to the Sheriffs of Bristol ; lastly, his two celebrated 
speeches, and particularly the documents on the Proposed Secession, 
the Address to the King, &c., now first regularly published in the 
volumes that have lately appeared of his works. 

* " He has restored virtue to its dig-nity, and tauffht innocence not to be ashamed. 
This is an elevation of literary character, above all Greek, above all Koman fame. 
No greater felicity can pcnius attain than that of having purified intellectual ])leasurc, 
separated mirth from indecency, and wit from licentiousness ; of having taught a suc- 
cession of wi-iters to bring elegance and gaiety to the aid of goodness ; and, if I may 
use expressions yet more awful, of having turned many to rujhteousness." Lives of the 
Poets, Vol. ii. p.*379 (London, 1783). — N. 



AMERICAN WAR. 581 

But it is to his two speeches that you Avill naturally turn ; they 
■were very justly admired at the time, and they are fitted for ever to 
remain the proper monuments of the wisdom as well as eloquence 
of this extraordinary man. So early as April, 1774, Mr. Burke 
made every effort which could be made by a discerning patriot and 
an interesting orator, to attract the attention of the House to the his- 
tory of the American dispute, and to clear away, if possible, that 
most unfortunate tax on tea wliich Lord North had left standing, 
practically to indicate the right of the British Parliament, and which 
therefore served only to keep the dispute still alive, and the Ameri- 
cans in a state of irritation ; for it was the practical exercise of the 
right, and the consequences that might ensue, which were the objects 
of alarm, not the quantity of the tax. 

Mr. Burke describes the manner in which, at the peace, it was 
thought necessaiy to keep up no less than twenty new regiments, and 
the hopes that were held out to the country gentlemen by Charles 
Townshend, of a revenue to be raised from America. " Here began," 
says he, " to dawn the first glimmerings of this new colony system. 

It appeared more distinctly afterwards With the best intentions 

in the world, JNIr. George Grenville first brought tliis fatal scheme into 

form, and established it by act of Pai'liament He was bred to 

the law, which is, in my opinion, one of the first and noblest of human 
sciences, — a science which does more to quicken and invigorate the 
understanding than all the other kinds of learning put together ; but it 
is not apt, except in persons very happily bom, to open and to liberal- 
ize tlie mind exactly in the same proportion. Passing from that study, 
he did not go very largely into the world, but plunged into business, 
— I mean into the business of office." " Men," he adds, " too much 
conversant in office are rarely minds of remarkable enlargement." — 
This observation of Mr. Burke, as well as the former, is most just ; 
and if men of rank and fortune send their sons into public offices, as 
they seem disposed to do, to become, as it were, apprentices to their 
trade, adieu to the race of statesmen ; and our gi-eat empire mil have 
to be governed, not by those who are capable of rule, but by those 
who ought rather to be their clerks and law agents. 

I must be indulged here with one moment of digression. Men 
who thus begin with the routine of office, and wlio thus early imbibe 
all the notions of office, never afterwai'ds get beyond them. They 
become familianzed -w-ith corruption, accustomed to petty tricks and 
paltry expedients. Their understanduigs are narrowed ; their feel- 
ings blunted ; their minds rendered coarse and vulgar ; the natural 
sense of patriotism, and benevolence, and honor, is weakened and de- 
based ; they mistake their craft for sagacity, their acquaintance with 
detail for more profound ^\•isdom ; and it is scarcely too much to say, 
that they become, through the remainder of their public life, the 
secret or avowed friends of serviUty, the deriders of all pubUc spirit, 

WW* 



582 LECTURE XXXII. 

the enemies of all improvement, and, if any crisis of human affairs 
occurs, the most fatal counsellors, with or mthout their intention, that 
their king or their country can listen to. Of all spectacles, one of 
the most melancholy is to see the representative of a noble or power- 
ful family thrown early into an office, to be swaddled and bound up 
by the clerks that preside there, and made to assimilate himself in his 
opinions and feelings to those whom he ought, from the privileges 
and advantages of his bu-th and education, to enlighten and com- 
mand. 

But to return. Mr. Burke then pursues the history of the Ameri- 
can dispute ; Mr. Grenville's Stamp Act ; the repeal of it by the 
Whig administration of Lord Rockmgham ; the characters of Lord 
Chatham and Charles Townshend. These passages in his speech are 
well known, and I need not further allude to them. 

" The distinction," he goes on to say, " of internal and external 
duties was originally moved by the Americans themselves ; and I 
think," says he, " they will acquiesce in it, if they are not pushed 

with too much logic and too little sense in all the consequences 

Recover your old ground, and your old tranquilUty. Try it ; I am 
persuaded the Americans will compromise with you 

" Again, and again, revert to your old principles ; seek peace and 
ensue it ; leave America, if she has taxable matter in her, to tax her- 
self. I am not here going into the distinctions of rights, nor attempt- 
ing to mark their boundaries. I do not enter into these metaphysi- 
cal distinctions ; I hate the very sound of them. Leave the Ameri- 
cans as they anciently stood, and these distinctions, born of our 
unhappy contest, will die along with it. They and we, and their and 
our ancestors, have been happy under that system. Let the memory 
of all actions, in contradiction to that good old mode, on both sides, 
be extinguished for ever. Be content to bind America by laws of 
trade ; you have always done it. Let this be your reason for binding 
their trade. Do not burden them by taxes ; you were not used to do 
so from the beginning. Let this be your reason for not taxing. 
These are the arguments of states and kingdoms ; leave the rest to 
the schools, for there only they may be discussed with safety. 

" But if, intemperately, unwisely, fatally, you sophisticate and 
poison the very source of government, by urging subtle deductions, 
and consequences odious to those you govern, from the unlimited and 
illimitable nature of supreme sovereignty, you will teach them by 
these means to call that sovereignty itself in question. When you 
drive liim hard, the boar will surely turn upon the hunters. If that 
sovereignty and their freedom cannot be reconciled, which will they 
take ? They will cast your sovereignty in your face. No body will 
be argued into slavery. Sir, let the gentlemen on the other side call 
forth all their ability ; let the best of them get up and tell me what 
one character of hberty the Americans have, and what one brand of 



AMERICAN WAR. 583 

slavery they are free from, if they are bound in their property and 
industry by all the restraints you can imagine on commerce, and at 
the same time are made pack-horses of every tax you choose to im- 
pose, without the least share in granting them. When they bear the 
burdens of unlimited monopoly, will you bring them to bear the bur- 
dens of unlimited revenue too ? The Englishman in America will 
feel that this is slavery ; that it is legal slavery will be no compensa- 
tion either to his feelings or his understanding. 

"A noble lord [Lord Carmarthen], wdio spoke some time ago, is 
full of the fire of ingenuous youth ; and when he has modelled the 
ideas of a lively imagination by further experience, he will be an 
ornament to his country in either house. He has said, that the 
Americans are our children, and how can they revolt against their 
parent ? He says, that, if they are not free in their present state, 
England is not free, because Manchester and other considerable 
places are not represented. So, then, because some towns in Eng- 
land are not represented, America is to have no representative at all. 
They are 'our children'; but when children ask for bread, we are 
not to give a stone. Is it because the natural resistance of things, 
and the various mutations of time, hinders our government, or any 
scheme of government, from being any more than a sort of approxi- 
mation to the right, is it therefore that the colonies are to recede 

from it infinitely ? Are we to give them our weakness for 

their strength ; our opprobrium for their glory ; and the slough of 
slavery, which we are not able to work off, to serve them for their 
freedom ? If this be the case, ask yourselves this question, — Will 
tliey be content in such a state of slavery ? If not, look to the conse- 
quences. Reflect how you are to govern a people who think they 
ought to be free, and think they are not. Your scheme yields no 
revenue ; it yields nothing but discontent, disorder, disobedience ; and 
such is the state of America, that, after wading up to your eyes in 
blood, you could only end just where you begun ; that is, to tax 

where no revenue is to be found ; to my voice fails me ; my in- 

chnation, indeed, carries me no further, — all is confusion beyond it." 

But observations like these were vain. The majority against him 
was very great ; the coercive system Avas adopted ; and a year after- 
wards, in March, 1775, Mr. Burke made another, and even more 
memorable, effort in the cause of conciliation. You will see it in his 
^Vorks ; you will guess the sort of matter, but you cannot, without 
perusal and meditation of it, imagine to yourselves the beauty, the 
propriety, the profound wisdom of the sentiments and opinions it con- 
tains. 

'^ I confess," says he, " my opinion is much more in favor of pru- 
dent management than of force, — considering force, not as an odious, 
but a feeble, instrument for preserving a people so numerous, so 
active, so growing, so spirited as this, in a profitable and subordinate 



584 LECTURE XXXIL 

connection with us. Force is in its effects but temporary. It is un- 
certain. You impair the object by your very endeavours to preserve 
it. The thing you fought for is not the thing which you recover. I 
do not choose to consume the strength of America along with our 
own ; nor to be caught by a foreign enemy at the end of this exhaust- 
ing conflict, and still less in the midst of it. Let me add, that I do 
not choose wholly to break the American spirit, because it is the spirit 
that has made the country. Consider, too, the temper and character 
of the Americans. A love of freedom is the predominating feature. 
The people of the colonies are descendants of Englishmen. They are, 
therefore, not only devoted to liberty, but to liberty according to 
English ideas, and on English principles. Now the great contests 
for freedom in this country were, from the earliest times, chiefly upon 
the question of taxing. The colonies draw from you, as with their 
life-blood, these ideas and principles. Their love of liberty, as with 
you, fixed and attached on this specific point of taxing." 

Mr. Burke proceeds further to the consideration of the government, 
the religion, the education of the Americans, drawing from each his 
general conclusion that they were not a people that could be coerced. 
But again, says he, " Three thousand miles of ocean lie between 
you and them ; no contrivance can prevent the effect of this distance 
in weakening government. Seas roll and months pass between the 
order and the execution, and the want of a speedy explanation of a 
single point is enough to defeat an whole system. Who are you 
that should fret and rage, and bite the chains of nature ? Nothing 
worse happens to you than does to all nations who have extensive 
empire. From all these causes a fierce spirit of liberty has grown 
up. The question is, not whether their spirit deserves praise or 
blame ; — what, in the name of God, shall we do with it ? You have 
before you the object, such as it is, with all its glories, with all its 
imperfections on its head. We are strongly urged to determine some- 
thing concerning it. I am much against any further experiments. 
In effect, we suffer as much at home as we do abroad ; for, in order 
to prove that the Americans have no right to their liberties, we are 
every day endeavouring to subvert the maxims which preserve the 
whole spirit of our own. We never seem to gain a paltry advantage 
over them in debate, without attacking some of those principles or 
deriding some of those feelings for which our ancestors have shed 
their blood." 

I am quoting, you see, Mr. Burke ; I am referring to him at great 
length. Among other reasons that may occur to you why I do so, 
there is one more particularly my own, which I must mention to you. 
It is this : you will remember, that, on endeavouring to account for 
the American war, I brought forward to you, as a cause, the preva- 
lence of a certain vulgarity of sentiment in politics. I must own, I 
consider this as a most important fault. I am certainly very anxious 



AMERICAN WAR. 585 

upon this point. There are few upon which, as a lecturer, I can be 
more anxious ; and therefore, in the course of the consideration of 
this American subject, I had marked down a long list of instances in 
the speeches and conduct of our ministers, of our country gentlemen, 
and finally of the public, with an intention of reading them to you, 
thinking, that, if I exhibited them with comments, you might be the 
better protected from such mistakes, — such vulgar mistakes, as I 
presume to call them, — yourselves. But the more I read and re- 
flected upon the two speeches and the letter of Mr. Burke, the more I 
became persuaded that such a detailed exhibition on my part would 
be unnecessary ; for, if you read and meditate, and get thoroughly 
imbued with the spirit of wisdom which breathes through these per- 
formances, you will want neither quickness of sagacity nor accuracy 
of sentiment to observe and feel, as you read the history for your- 
selves, those very instances of vulgar politics to which I had alluded, 
and which, indeed, I find I could not well state to you one by one with 
proper comments, without a much greater expenditure of your time, 
while in this place, than I can afford, if I may so speak, to consume 
on this or any other single and more particular point. On this ac- 
count, then, have I dwelt so long on the speeches of Mr. Burke ; and 
it is on this account that I must proceed with some further references 
and quotations, though I will not continue them much longer. 

After discussing different modes of conduct to America, " No 
way," said he, " is open, but to comply with the American spirit, as 
necessary, or, if you please, to submit to it as a necessary evil. Sir, 
I think you must perceive that I am resolved, this day, to have noth- 
ing at all to do with the question of the right of taxation. It is not 
what a lawyer tells me I may do, but what humanity, reason, and 
justice tell me I ought to do. 

" Bat the colonies will go further. — Alas ! alas ! what will quiet 
these panic fears Avhich we entertain of the hostile effect of a concilia- 
tory conduct ? Is it a certain maxim, that, the fewer causes of dis- 
satisfaction are left by government, the more the subject will be in- 
clined to resist and rebel ? It is a very great mistake to imagine 
that mankind follow up practically any speculative principle, either 
of government or of freedom, as far as it will go in argument and 
logical illation. 

" A revenue from America transmitted hither ! Do not delude 
yourselves ; you never can receive it. For all service, whether of 
revenue, trade, or empire, my trust is in the interest which America 
has in the British constitution. My hold of the colonies is in the 
close affection which grows from common names, from kindred blood, 
from similar privileges, and equal protection. These are ties which, 
though light as air, are as sti'ong as links of iron. Let the colonies 
always keep the idea of their civil rights associated with your govern- 
ment ; they will chug and grapple to you, and no force under heaven 
74 



586 LECTURE XXXII. 

will be of power to tear them from tlielr allegiance. But let it be 
once understood that your government may be one thing, and their 
privileges another, — that these two things may exist without any 
mutual relation, — the cement is gone, the cohesion is loosebed, and 
every thing hastens to decay and dissolution. 

" As long as you have the wisdom to keep the sovereign authority 
of this country as the sanctuary of liberty, the sacred temple conse- 
crated to our common faith, wherever the chosen race and sons of 
England worship freedom^ they will turn their faces towards you. 
The more they multiply, the more friends you will have ; the more 
ardently they love liberty, the more perfect will be their obedience. 
Slavery they can have anywhere. It is a weed that grows in every 
soil. They may have it from Spain, they may have it from Prussia ; 
but until you become lost to all feeling of your true interest and your 
natural dignity, freedom they can have from none but you. This is 
the commodity of price, of which you have the monopoly. This is 
the true act of navigation, which binds to you the commerce of the 
colonies, and through them secures to you the wealth of the world. 
Deny them this participation of freedom, and you break that sole 
bond wliich originally made, and must still preserve, the unity of the 
empire. 

" Do not entertain so weak an imagination, as that your registers 
and your bonds, your affidavits and your sufferances, your cockets 
and your clearances, are what form the great securities of your com- 
merce. Do not dream that your letters of office, and your instruc- 
tions, and your suspending clauses, are the things that hold together 
the great contexture of this mysterious whole. These things do not 
make your government. Dead instruments, passive tools, as they 
are, it is the spirit of the English communion that gives all their life 
and efficacy to them. It is the spirit of the Enghsh constitution, 
which, infused through the mighty mass, pervades, feeds, unites, in- 
vigorates, vivifies every part of the empire, even down to the minutest 
member. Is it not the same virtue which does every thing for us 
here in England ? Do you imagine, then, that it is the Land-Tax 
Act which raises your revenue ? that it is the annual vote in the Com- 
mittee of Supply which gives you your army ? or that it is the Mutiny 
Bill which inspires it with bravery and discipline ? No, surely no ! 
It is the love of the people ; it is their attachment to their govern- 
ment, from the sense of the deep stake they have in such a glorious 
institution, which gives you your army and your navy, and infuses 
into both that liberal obedience without Avhich your army would be 
a base rabble, and your navy nothing but rotten timber. 

" All this, I know well enough, will sound wild and chimerical to 
the profane herd of those vulgar and mechanical politicians who have 
no place among us ; a sort of people who think that nothing exists but 
what is gross and material ; and who, therefore, far from being quali- 



AMERICAN WAR. 587 

fied to be directors of the great movement of empire, are not tit to 
turn a wheel in the machine. But to men truly initiated and rightly 
taught, these ruling and master principles, which, in the opinion of 
such men as I have mentioned, have no substantial existence, are in 
truth every thing, and all in all. 

" Magnanimity in politics is not seldom the truest wisdom, and 
a great empire and little minds go ill together. If we are conscious 
of our situation, and glow with zeal to fill our place as becomes our 
station and ourselves, Ave ought to auspicate all our public proceed- 
ings on America with the old warning of the Church, Sursum corda ! 
We ought to elevate our minds to the greatness of that trust to which 
the order of Providence has called us. By adverting to the dignity 
of this high calling, our ancestors have turned a savage wilderness 
into a glorious empire, and have made the most extensive and the 
only honorable conquests ; not by destroying, but by promoting, the 
wealth, the number, the happiness of the human race. Let us get an 
American revenue as we have got an American empire. English 
privileges have made it all that it is ; Enghsh privileges alone will 
make it all it can be." 

Mr. Burke moved his resolution, but the previous question was 
carried against him, — two hundred and seventy to seventy-eight. 
Well, indeed, might Mr. Burke observe, that a great empire and 
Httle minds go but ill together, and that the march of the human 
mind is slow. 

I turn with difficulty from the pages of Mr. Burke. I proceed not 
to his Letter addressed to the Sheriffs of Bristol ; I make no more 
quotations ; I have made, it may be thought, already too many and 
too long ; but if I can but thus secure your reading these composi- 
tions, I could not possibly have occupied your time better, and I 
have not then made quotations either too many or too long. You are 
men of education, and should be distinguished hereafter by the eleva- 
tion of your sentiments and the comprehensiveness of your views, — 
that is, not a little by the magnanimity, I had almost said by the con- 
siderate good-temper, of your feelings and reasonings on political sub- 
jects ; and be assured that your own country, like every other coun- 
try, will fare well or fare ill, as such refinement of mind and elevated 
kindness of temperament does or does not prevail among its rulers. 
Never was such an absence of it as appeared in this nation during 
the American war ; never was such a display of it as in the speeches 
of Mr. Burke to which I have referred. Here, then, is your school. 
It is natural for me to quote at great length from works which, if 
successful in producing upon your minds their proper effects, will ac- 
complish for me, at once, many of the best purposes which I ought to 
labor most anxiously to attain ; for among such purposes the noblest 
and the first must be, to enlarge your understandings, and to harmo- 
nize your feelings to the rights of others, and to the claims of mercy 



688 LECTURE XXXII. 

and justice, -whatever be the occasion on which thej are urged, or 
the chme or the people whence thej arise. 

Mine, however, is on this occasion but a ministerial office : it is to 
point out to you those immortal productions, and no more : it is to 
show you the temple, and to stand at the portal, and to persuade you 
not to pass lightly by and disregard it, but to enter in and survey its 
columns and approach its shrine ; to pause and to reflect, and to pon- 
der all these things in your heart, that you may hereafter walk forth 
to the exercise of your duties, — some of you, the highest duties 
which human beings can have to perform, — the duties of legislation ; 
that you may come abroad into the world, animated with benevolence, 
and soothed into a spirit of forbearance and of patience, when expos- 
ed to the resistance which, if you are to labor for the good of others, 
you must encounter both in friends and foes ; better men and wiser 
men, and purged from the mean and vindictive passions of our 
nature. For the temple to which I would now direct your steps is 
far unlike the sacred groves or venerated edifices of ignorance and 
superstition ; — 

" Unbribed, unbloody, stands the blameless priest." 

It is a temple of peace, and it is a temple of wisdom. There is no awe, 
and no terror, and no idol, before whose appalhng fires the human 
victim is to be sacrificed. Scenes and images of this terrific nature 
should rather be associated with those men who spoke of uncondition- 
al submission, of insulted supremacy, and of necessary punishment; 
who, like the great minister of the vengeance of Spain, the ferocious 
Duke of Alva, talked of gangrenes that were to be cured by fire and 
by sword. 

Such were not the sounds, such was not the wisdom, which this 
patriot of the British senate breathed during the whole of this memo- 
rable period. Posterity will do him that justice which but too few of 
those whom he addressed were capable of rendering him ; and how- 
ever those who come after us may, or may not, difibr in their opinion 
of the effusions of his mind on later occasions, at the opening and dur- 
ing the progress of the French Revolution, when his genius may be 
supposed by some to have been sublimed almost into frenzy by the 
scenes that in visible presence passed before him, and still more by 
those that came thronging and terrible upon him in the visions of his 
listening expectation, — - however men may, or may not, contest his 
claim to the character of a political prophet (though all must surely 
consider him as the great moral prophet of Europe, at the first ap- 
pearance of this tremendous event), — however these things may be, 
no intelUgent statesman, no meditating philosopher on the afiairs of 
men, will deny to him the praise of clearly discerning, and luminous- 
ly stating, at the opening of the iVmerican Revolution at least, all the 
human passions that were at work on the other side of the Atlantic, 



AMERICAN WAR. 589 

and of making every effort which eloquence and ■wisdom were compe- 
tent to make to medicine into peace the unhappy passions which were 
no less in full operation on tliis side of the Atlantic. And though 
these efforts were unavailing, though a greater Power had decreed 
that a new empire was now to issue from the far retired recesses of 
undisturbed forests and the wide-spreading tracts of uncultivated na- 
ture, the merit of the statesman must be ever the same ; the states- 
man who, amid the delusions of the hour, could take the same view 
of the justice and pohcy of the case before him which Avill be taken 
by posterity ; who, amid the menaces of violence and military coer- 
cion which animated the speeches of those around him, could, in the 
spirit of the angelic choir, speak the words of peace on earth and 
good-will towards men ; and, amid the clamors of those who called 
aloud for unconditional submission and unconditional taxation, could 
maintain, with all that splendor of wisdom and of eloquence to which 
I have directed your admiration, the doctrines of mild government, 
and the free principles of the constitution of England. 



LECTURE XXXIII 



AMERICAN WAR. 

You will have observed, from the extracts I have produced, that, 
in the course of the debates in Parliament, many members appear to 
have denounced to the ministers beforehand the folly of their expecta- 
tions, and the evil consequences by which their measures would be 
attended. Such instances of peculiar Avisdom in statesmen and in 
parties have at other times occurred, and they ought always to be 
considered as the proper subjects of meditation to those who are am- 
bitious to be hereafter wise and virtuous legislators or intelligent 
patriots, themselves. It should be asked, how this superior wisdom 
was obtained, and why it was not successful. 

It is sometimes said, on these occasions, by those who have noth- 
ing else to say, that predictions of this kind are made, not from a 
spirit of wisdom, but from a spirit of opposition ; that the ministers 
hanng taken their course in one direction, their opponents necessari- 
ly proceed in the other ; that it is the very study and occupation of 
those who are on one side of the House to contradict the assertions 
and vilify the measures of those who are on the other ; and that all 
denunciations of ruin and defeat are words of course, — the mere 

XX 



590 LECTURE XXXIII. 

terms of declamation and abuse, played off by those who are without 
against the garrison within, of a fort which they are endeavouring to 
storm. 

It must be observed, therefore, in a few words, that the ministers 
have the first choice of their measures, and if they adopt those which 
lead to disappointment and defeat, they at least are wrong, and the 
proper objects of public censure, whatever we may say of their oppo- 
nents ; but with respect to these last, that it by no means follows, if 
the ministers have gone to the left, that their opponents shall neces- 
sarily turn to the right ; because, whatever they do, they do, like the 
ministers themselves, at the hazard of their own characters, — at the 
risk of their credit with wise and good men. They who are out of 
office can come into office only by rising in the estimation of their 
sovereign and the public, very often of the public only ; and one of 
the most obvious ways of rising in this estimation is by showing su- 
perior sagacity in the concerns of the empire. It must also be ob- 
served, that what public men, whether in or out of office, must avoid, 
is the making of predictions. This is what is called, in their own 
language, " committing themselves," and is never done without the 
greatest caution and necessity ; and therefore, whenever public men 
choose to put themselves at issue with the ministers, and hazard pre- 
dictions, they become from that moment entitled to the praise of su- 
perior wisdom or not, just as their expectations are or are not verified 
by the event. Indeed, upon any other supposition, the situation of 
our statesmen would be somewhat ludicrous, and any display of pohti- 
cal wisdom would be impossible, if those who advise measures are to 
have credit when they succeed, and those who predict the folly of 
such measures are to have no credit when they fail. 

The only point on the subject that can now remain seems to be 
this, — whether the prediction has been occasioned, not by superior 
philosophy or wisdom, but by some particular whim or passion or 
prejudice in the speaker's mind. This is a mere question of fact, and 
before such an explanation can be received, the case must be made 
out. This supposition, however, is out of the question, when they 
who have made predictions are not a few, but many, — and not rash 
or young men, but men of information, character, and experience. 
It will always be found that those who not only have predicted, but 
have predicted truly, have drawn their piinciples from deeper sources 
in human nature than their opponents have, have taken their views 
from more commanding heights, and have been better able to discern 
the philosophy of the case, and have probably not acquiesced in the 
popular or first notions of it, — that is, in a word, have shown them- 
selves men of greater capacity for the management of the affairs of 
mankind. 

In the case, indeed, before us, these predictions were uttered, not . 
only in the speeches of different statesmen, but in the pamphlets of 



AMERICAN WAR. 691 

different writers ; and to the latter such objections as we have alluded 
to are even less reasonable than when applied to speakers in Parlia- 
ment. 

I have now stated to you what I conceive to have been the causes 
that so unfortunately operated on this side of the Atlantic to produce 
the civil war with America. I have endeavoured to illustrate my 
positions by a reference, first, to the debates of Parliament, and, 
secondly, to the most noted pamphlets that appeared at the time, and 
more particularly to the speeches, that were afterwards published as 
pamphlets, by Mr. Burke. I shall now endeavour to illustrate the 
same positions by a reference to one of the writers of America, as 
well as one of our own ; that is, I shall endeavour to make a compari- 
son of the different views that were taken of the same measures and 
events by the Americans and ourselves, — seeking, for one in the 
pages of Dr. Ramsay, and for the other in those of the Annual 
Register ; and I do this to-day, because I wish you to do it for your- 
selves hereafter. My present lecture I intend to be a specimen of 
what I mean when I advise you, as I now do, to note well what was 
thought by the two opposite parties in this dispute, — that is, not 
only by ourselves, but by the Americans. You know the great pre- 
cept of Christianity, the great maxim of morality, " Do unto others 
as you would they should do unto you." The more you accustom 
yourselves to this discipline of your feelings, the better. Try it in 
the subject now before you ; you will be the more able and the more 
willing to do it hereafter on every public occasion that can occur ; 
that is, you ^vill not only be better men in the relations of private 
life, but, on the larger scale, you will be more rational advisers to 
your sovereign, or more useful members of the legislature, or more 
intelligent individuals, when you are to form your estimates, from 
time to time, as you ought to do, of the measures of those who ad- 
minister the government of your country. 

No doubt, all comparisons of this kind, of one book and one set of 
opinions with another, is a process somewhat tedious and repulsive ; 
but you are, I hope, not now to learn the difference between reading 
and study, — between what I may call passive reading and active 
reading, — between sitting still to receive from a book the ideas and 
impressions it may give you, and stopping to reflect upon its opinions, 
occasionally examine its references, and compare and contrast its esti- 
mates and conclusions with those of other writers. It is a process of 
this last kind that can alone deserve the respectable name of study ; 
but, like every other process from which the human character is to 
acquire the attribute of ment, it impUes sometliing to be achieved 
and to be endured, — some toil, some patience, some virtue, some 
valuable quality of the mind or temper to be exercised. 

It is, indeed, the great business of this place to teach men the ex- 
ercise of their understanding, and to initiate them in the duties and 



592 LECTURE xxxin. 

sacrifices by which all intellectual as well as moral improvement must 
be attained. Those young men have taken a very unworthy and 
mistaken view of our system, who suppose that they are taught the 
sciences, for instance, only for the immediate and appropriate value of 
the knowledge they convey, — that nothing more is meant or accom- 
phshed. Let any man endeavour properly to pass through our ex- 
aminations, no matter what be the subject, or whether he be success- 
ful or not, he will then have been taught to comprehend what it is to 
know a subject, and what it is only to be acquainted with it and only 
to suppose he knows it ; and he Avill feel the benefit of his labors, or 
of his sufferings, if you please, if he should ever have afterwards to 
engage in a profession, to take a part in our houses of legislature, to 
propose a measure on the most ordinary occasion at a town or county 
meeting, or even to a committee of the subscribers to a public charity. 

But I am insensibly travelling out of my more proper province. 
The whole business and purport of these lectures, as I have from the 
first announced, is to assist you in reading history for yourselves, — 
to enable you, as far as I am competent, to turn the materials before 
you to the best advantage, to some purpose of your present and future 
improvement. Occasionally, therefore, I must propose to you tasks 
of some labor and exertion. I do so now ; but I have reduced it, as 
I think, to the smallest compass. The books I have selected are 
very concisely written, and I will now give you a slight specimen of 
what they contain, and of what I propose to you to do hereafter for 
yourselves. 

You have already seen what were the views of men on this side of 
the Atlantic ; observe now what was thought on the other. I shall 
proceed, as I have already intimated, to give you some idea of the 
account furnished by Ramsay ; I shall afterwards direct your atten- 
tion to the Annual Register. 

The work of Ramsay is short, and it is the American account. 
The author was a member of Congress, and had access to all the of- 
ficial papers of the United States. He quotes not his authorities, 
though he proposes hereafter to do so, if it should then be necessary. 
The author does not criticize with pi'oper severity the conduct of 
Congress ; and he is disposed to palliate the defeats of the Americans 
in the field, — not considering that the more difficult it was to bring 
militia and raw troops to face the regular armies of England, the 
greater was the merit of the generals and legislators who succeeded 
in procuring victory and independence for their country. But with 
these exceptions, the author appears to give a candid and intelligent 
account of the revolution he witnessed ; and it is impossible for an 
English student to judge of these transactions without reading this 
work or Marshall's Life of Washington. 

In this work, as in others, I would wish yovi more particularly to 
note the earlier stages of this dispute. You will find the first chap- 



AMERICAN WAR. 593 

ter, on the settlement of the English colonies, reasonable and good. 
Proper observations are made on the charters, the nature of the 
enterprise, and the rights that result from it. The general notion 
was, according to Ramsay, (though I abridge his sentences for the 
sake of brevity, I use his words, and shall continue to do so for some 
time,) that the settlers were to have the rights of English subjects, 
as if they had remained at home ; but no such question of right as 
was afterwards agitated in the colonies and the mother country was 
ever thought of at the time. On the whole, the prerogatives of 
royalty were but feebly impressed on the colonial forms of govern- 
ment. In some provinces, the inhabitants chose their governors, and 
all other public officers ; the legislatures were under little or no con- 
trol : in others, the crown delegated most of its powers to particular 
persons, who were also invested with the property of the soil : and in 
those most dependent on tlie king, his power over the provincial as- 
semblies seemed not greater than over the House of Commons in 
England ; and from the acquiescence of the parent state, the spirit of 
our constitution, and the common practice of every day's experience, 
the colonists grew up in a belief that their local assemblies stood in 
the same relation to them as the houses of ParUament to the mother 
country. 

The good eflfects of the free system of colonization were visible in 
their rapid progress. The colonies obtained their charters, and the 
greatest number of their settlers, between 1G03 and 1G88 ;* and the 
settlers were in general devoted to liberty. The principles of free- 
dom, and even of democratic freedom, were ingrafted and incorporat- 
ed for ever into their minds from the following circumstances : — 
their extraction, their religion, the books they read, their colonial 
governments, their distance from the mother country, the general 
equality of rank, their freehold and independent property, their 
simple modes of life, the little patronage held by the crown. 

Now these ai-e the facts as stated by Ramsay, — sufficiently obvi- 
ous, and facts that could not have been denied at the time ; facts that 
might have been known on this side of the Atlantic, and must have 
been known to those of our public men who condescended to think 
at all upon the subject. And what was the preparation, I would ask, 
that these formed for the project of our English ministers and lawyers 
to exercise over the colonies the right of taxation ? 

The first symptom of the American dispute appeared so early as 
1754 : it is alluded to by Governor Pownall in one of his speeches in 
Parliament ; it is mentioned by Ramsay. When the French were 

* That is, between the accession of James I., under whose auspices the earliest suc- 
cessful settlements were made, and the period of the Ensjlish Revolution. The oldest 
of the Thirteen Colonies, Vir<;inia, was founded in 1607, under a charter granted the 
previous year; and the last during that century, Pennsylvania, in 1682: the charter of 
the youngest, Georgia, dates from a period tifty years later. See Ramsay, Hist. 
Amer. Rev., Ch. i.; also, Holmes's Annals of America. — N. 

75 XX* 



594 LECTURE XXXIIL 

expected soon to attack America, the governors and principal mem- 
bers of the provincial assemblies met at Albany, in 1754, and pro- 
posed that a grand general council should be formed of the members 
of these assemblies,* and that they, with the governor appointed by 
the crown, should make general laws, and raise money from all the 
colonies for their common defence. The British ministry proposed, 
on the contrary, that the governors of all the colonies, with one or 
two members of their councils, should concert and execute all neces- 
sary measures, but draw upon the British treasury, and then be re- 
imbursed by a tax laid on the colonies by act of Parliament, — that 
is, by act of our British Parliament. 

This plan was not relished by the colonists, any more than the for- 
mer had been by the ministry : in the one, you will observe, the right 
of taxation was exercised by America, — in the other, by England. 
But the Pelhams, being prudent ministers, did not urge the difference 
into a regular dispute. Dr. Franklin, it seems, at the time, gave his 
opinion on the proposition of the British minister ; and had the sagaci- 
ty to anticipate the substance of a controversy which, in ten years 
afterwards, began to employ, and for twenty years did employ, the 
tongues, the pens, and the swords of the two countries. You will 
find the whole account in the third volume of his Works. 

In the second chapter of Ramsay, you will find the origin of the 
dispute in the year 1764 described, and then its progress through the 
vexatious restrictions that had been at different times enacted, down 
to the fatal Stamp Act of 1764 and 1765. Proper observations are 
made on the right of taxation, and on the exercise of it. 

The effect of the Stamp Act in America is then detailed with very 
proper minuteness : the uneasiness, the irritation, the inflammation, 
the fury, the insanity, that at length appeared. The particulars 
mentioned are instructive, and they form part of that appropriate and 
local information which the work contains, and which is so valuable. 
It is observed that the speeches of Mr. Pitt inspired the Americans 
with additional confidence in the rectitude of their cause ; but the 
good effect of the repeal of the Stamp Act, by the Rockingham ad- 
ministration, is most distinctly stated. " It was no sooner known in 
America, than the colonists rescinded their resolutions, and recom- 
menced their mercantile intercourse with the mother country : their 
public and private rejoicings knew no bounds." Ramsay also states 
that " the bulk of the Americans considered the Declaratory Act," 
passed at the same time, " as a salvo for the honor of Parliament, and 
flattered themselves it would remain a dead letter : unwilUng to con- 

* Professor Smyth abridges rather loosely in this place. Ramsay's language is, — 
" That a grand council sliould be formed of members to be chosen by the provincial as- 
SCTTifeZ/fs, which council, together with a governor to be appointed by the crowni, should," 
&c. Hist. Amer. Rev., Vol. i. p. 37. The governor, as he is here called, is styled in 
the Plan of Union itself. President- General. For the paper enth-e, see Sparks's Frank- 
lin, Vol. iii. pp. 36-55. — N. 



AMERICAN WAR. 695 

tend about paper claims of ideal supremacy, they returned to their 
habits of good-humor with the parent state." Dr. Ramsay then pro- 
ceeds to state, pei-haps even to exaggerate, the " high-sounding pre- 
tensions," as he calls them, which were the result of this species of 
victory over the mother country. It is impossible, no doubt, that a 
mistake in legislation should ever be entirely harmless ; but he at 
length observes, that these high-sounding pretensions would have 
spent themselves in words, had not the idea of taxing America been 
soon after revived by Charles Townshend. We have now again ap- 
propriate information, and a short detail of the disturbances that took 
place. 

On the whole, the minds of the Americans might have been paci- 
fied, even after this very injudicious revival of the dispute ; but cer- 
tainly not without an entire disavowal by the mother country of a 
claim to taxation. The ministers of England, in the mean time, 
seem to have been little aware of, or little disposed to attend to, the 
sentiments of the people of America. Upon a supposition that it was 
thought any object to retain America, nothing could be more un- 
worthy of statesmen than the declarations of themselves and their 
friends, during all the earlier years of the contest. 

A third chapter describes the effect produced by the tea tax, and 
the importation of the article, as well as by the three famous acts, 
the Boston Port Bill, the bill for altering the constitution of Massa- 
chusetts, and for removing, if necessary, the trial of capital offenders 
to Great Britain. These last three laws were considered as forming 
a complete system of tyranny, from which there was scarcely a 
chance to escape. " By the first," said the Americans, " the proper- 
ty of unoffending thousands is arbitrarily taken away for the act of a 
few individuals ; by the second, our chartered liberties are annihilat- 
ed ; and by the third, our lives may be destroyed with impunity. 
Property, liberty, and hfe are all sacrificed on the altar of ministerial 
vengeance." 

The three acts became the cement of the union of all the States of 
America against Great Britain. These acts were, in the mean time, 
popular in England ; and this is the lesson of instruction which the 
history offers you : that nations, like individuals, never condescend to 
stop and examine how far the arguments and feelings of their oppo- 
nents may be reasonable and just ; and hence it follows, that men of 
rank and influence, in any community, can never be better employed 
than in prevailing on their countrymen to pause and reflect, — to re- 
member that in every quarrel there must necessarily be two sides, 
and that it would be a marvellous circumstance indeed, if the one 
side — that is, themselves — were exclusively in the right. 

The fourth and fifth chapters, like the second and third, contain 
appropriate information. America, it seems, was agreed on the 
general cpestion ; but the difficulty was, for the inhabitants of Massa- 



596 LECTURE XXXIII. 

chusetts, particularly of Boston, to persuade the rest of the continent 
to make a common cause with them. " The other provinces," says 
Ramsaj, " Avere but remotely affected by the fate of Massachusetts. 
They were happy, and had no cause, on their own account, for oppo- 
sition to Great Britain. They commenced it, and ultimately engaged 
in a defensive war, on speculation. They were not so much moved 
by oppression actually felt, as by a conviction that a foundation was 
laid, and a precedent about to be established, for future oppressions. 
To convince the bulk of the people that they had an interest in fore- 
going a present good and submitting to a present evil, in order to ob- 
tain a future greater good and to avoid a future greater evil, was the 
task assigned to the colonial patriots." This they effected, in a great 
measure, as it appears, by means of the press, by pamphlets, essays, 
addresses, and newspaper dissertations ; by public and private letters ; 
meetings and resolutions ; petitions and addresses to their gover- 
nors ; by associations, and by a well-organized system of committees. 
" The events of this time," says Ramsay, " may be transmitted to 
posterity ; but the agitation of the public mind can never be fully 
comprehended but by those who were witnesses of it." 

But here, and through all these earlier chapters of Ramsay, the 
question to be asked is this : Whether these patriots could have pro- 
duced these effects, had they not been assisted by the harsh measures 
of England. It is possible that they would not have tried ; but sm-e- 
ly they would not have succeeded, if they had. 

Speaking of the important year of 1774, " In the counties and 
toAvns," says Ramsay, " of the several provinces, as well as in the 
cities, the people assembled and passed resolutions expressive of their 
rights, and of their detestation of the late American acts of Parlia- 
ment. These had an instantaneous effect on the minds of thousands. 
Not only the young and impetuous, but the aged and temperate, join- 
ed in pronouncing them to be unconstitutional and oppressive. They 
viewed them as deadly weapons aimed at the vitals of that liberty 
which they adored ; as rendering abortive the generous pains taken 
by their forefathers to procure for them in a new world the quiet en- 
joyment of their rights. They were the subjects of their meditation 
when alone, and of their conversation when in company. Within Uttle 
more than a month after the news of the Boston Port Bill reach- 
ed America, it was communicated from State to State ; and a flame 
was kindled in almost every breast through the widely extended prov- 
inces." 

Such are the effects produced, such at all times are the advantages 
given to the intemperate or ill-designing, by harsh measures. Let 
the student, in the name of common sense, as Avell as humanity, be 
entreated to pause, and to suspect the approach of folly, or something 
worse, whenever, in the course of a misunderstanding with other 
countries, any measure which is called " a measure of vigor" is pro- 
posed to him. 



AMERICAN WAR. 597 

" Within four months," says Ramsay, " from the day on which the 
first intelligence of the Boston Port Bill reached America, the depu- 
ties of eleven provinces had convened in Philadelphia, and in four 
days more there was a complete representation of twelve colonies, 
containing three millions of people. The instructions given to these 
deputies were various ; but in general they contained strong profes- 
sions of loyalty and of constitutional dependence on the mother coun- 
try. The framers of them acknowledged the prerogatives of the 
crown, and disclaimed every wish of separation from the parent state. 
On the other hand, they were firm in declaring that they were en- 
titled to all the rights of British born subjects, and that the late 
acts respecting Massachusetts were unconstitutional and oppressive." 
They* specified the acts of which they complained ; entered into non- 
importation and non-exportation associations ; and prepared addresses 
to the people of Great Britain and the king. They then dissolved 
themselves in October, 1774, and agreed to meet in May, 1775. 

" Their determmations were no sooner known than they were 
clicerfuUy obeyed. To relieve the distresses of the people of Boston, 
liberal collections were made throughout the colonies ; a disposition 
to do, to suffer, and to accommodate spread from breast to breast, and 
from colony to colony, beyond the reach of human calculation. It 
seemed as though one mind inspired the whole. In the midst of 
their sufferings, cheerfulness appeared in the face of all the people : 
they counted every thing cheap in comparison with liberty, and readi- 
ly gave up whatever tended to endanger it. The animation of the 
times raised the actors in these scenes above themselves, and excited 
them to deeds of self-denial which the interested prudence of calmer 
seasons can scarcely credit." 

The fifth chapter of Ramsay exhibits the American view of the 
transactions that took place in Britain during the beginning of 1775 : 
this was the critical period of the contest. Great Britain had com- 
menced her measures of coercion, — America, of resistance. A body 
of men, the Congress, had assembled, who were considered as the 
organ through which the wishes and opinions of America were to be 
conveyed ; they had exhibited their cause to the British nation, they 
had petitioned the king. It was now to be seen, in the conduct of 
the houses of Parliament, whether civil war was to ensue. Unhap- 
pily, the address of the Houses, in answer to his Majesty's speech, 
declared for coercion, on the 9th of February, 1775. The force in 
America was to be properly increased. Lord Chatham and Mr. 
Burke in public, Dr. Franklin and others in public and private, all 
labored in vain. " The repeal of a few acts of Parliament," says 
Ramsay, " would at this time have satisfied America." But, confi- 
dent of victory, the ministers were deaf to petitions and remon- 
strances. That coercion Avhich put the speediest end to the dispute, 

* That is, Congress. See Kamsay, Vol. i. pp. 137 - 142. — N. 



598 LECTURE XXXIII. 

it was said, must be eventually the most merciful ; and no very long 
or effective resistance was expected. 

Very reasonable observations are here made by Ramsay ; and he 
is even candid enough to observe, that, " unfortunately for both coun- 
tries, two opinions were generally believed, neither of which was 
perhaps true in its utmost extent ; and one of which was most assured- 
ly false. The ministry and Parliament of England," he says, " pro- 
ceeded on the idea that the claims of the colonists amounted to abso- 
lute independence, and that a fixed resolution to renounce the sover- 
eignty of Great Britain was concealed under the specious pretext of 
a redress of grievances. The Americans, on the other hand, were 
equally confident that the mother country not only harboured designs 
unfriendly to their interests, but seriously intended to introduce arbi- 
trary government." There is probably considerable truth in this 
observation of Ramsay, on this mutual mistake ; and it should be a 
warning to all good and reasonable men to be very careful how they 
listen, on the breaking out of a dispute, to the asseverations of those 
who are of an ardent temper. 

The sixth chapter of Ramsay is not less interestmg than the former. 
The preparations on each side for the civil war, — the jealousy of 
liberty on the one side, the desire of supremacy on the other, — these 
were cause and effect, and urged both parties, the one to insist on 
their demands, and the other on submission. 

At Boston, in the mean time, from the year 1768, — even from 
so early a period as 1768, — a military force had been stationed by 
England. The inhabitants were exasperated against the soldiers, and 
they against the inhabitants : the one were considered as the mere 
instruments of tyranny, the other as rioters and smugglers ; and there 
was a constant interchange of insulting words, looks, and gestures. 
At length, in April, 1775, the sword was drawn ; the civil war com- 
menced, and " the blood of those who were killed at Lexington and 
Concord proved," says Ramsay, " the firm cement of an extensive 
union. The Americans who fell were revered as martyrs who had 
died in the cause of liberty. Resentment against the British burned 
more strongly than ever. The military arrangements, which had been 
adopted for defending the colonies from the French and Indians, 
were turned against the parent state ; forts, magazines, arsenals, were 
seized by the provincial militia ; and the Lexington battle not only 
furnished the Americans with a justifying apology for raising an 
army, but inspired them with ideas of their own prowess. The lan- 
guage of the time was, ' It is better to die freemen than to five 
slaves.' ' Our houses,' it was said, ' though destroyed, may be re- 
built ; but hberty, once gone, is lost for ever.' " The pulpit, the press, 
the bench, and the bar, severally labored to encourage the resistance 
that had been resolved upon : religion was connected with patriotism ; 
and in sermons, and in prayers, the cause of America was representr 



AMERICAN WAR. 599 

ed as the cause of Heaven ; pastoral letters were written ; a day of 
fasting and humiliation was appointed : a league and covenant had 
been formed in an earlier stage of the contest. But nothing could 
apprise the inaccessible confidence of the British ministry how danger- 
ous was the fury of a people, the descendants of republicans and 
flvnatics, whom they were going, by very unreasonable and very un- 
justifiable aggressions, to rouse into action. 

After the first conflict at Lexington, and the dreadful storming, 
which was thought necessary by the British, of the American in- 
trenchments at Bunker's Hill, both in 1775, the next event of very 
great consequence was the declaration of independence, in July, 
177(3. 

You will now observe the arguments that were used ; you Avill see 
them in the very celebrated pamphlet of Paine, — his Common 
Sense, — a pamphlet whose effect was such, that it is quite a feature 
in this memorable contest. You may now read it, and wonder how 
a performance not marked, as you may at first sight suppose, with 
any particular powers of eloquence could possibly produce effects so 
striking. Without entering into this question, I must ask you to 
consider Avhat would have been his materials, if the government of 
the parent country had continued mild and conciliatory as it was be- 
fore the year 1763. He endeavours to make out, in the first place, 
as no doubt he might, that it was better for the continent of America 
to be an independent nation, than to be dependent on an island three 
thousand miles off. But when he comes to endeavour to animate the 
feelings, as he had before attempted to influence the understandings, 
of his countrymen, what Avere his words ? He writes, you will re- 
member, after the commencement of hostilities ; he writes for the 
purpose of procuring the vote of independence, a year after the affair 
at Lexington and the carnage at Bunker's Hill. 

Paine's Common Sense, p. 15. — " Men of passive tempers look 
somewhat lightly over the offences of Britain, and, still hoping for 
the best, are apt to call out, ' Come, come, Ave shall be friends again, 
for all this.' But examine the passions and feelings of mankind, 
bring the doctrine of reconcihation to the touchstone of nature, and 
then tell me whether you can hereafter love, honor, and faithfully 
serve the power that hath carried fire and sword into your land. If 
you cannot do all these, then are you only deceiving yourselves, and 
by your delay bringing ruin upon posterity. Y'^our future connection 
with Britain, whom you can neither love nor honor, will be forced and 
unnatural, and, being formed only on the plan of present convenience, 
will, in a little time, fall into a relapse more wretched than the first. 
But if you say you can still pass the violations over, then, I ask. 
Hath your house been burnt ? Hath your property been destroyed 
before your face ? Are your wife and cliildren destitute of a bed to 
lie on, or bread to live on ? Have you lost a parent or a child by 



GOO LECTURE XXXIII. 

their hands, and yourself the ruined and wretched survivor ? If you 
have not, then are you not a judge of those who have. But if you 
have, and still can shake hands with the murderers, then are you un- 
worthy the name of husband, father, friend, or lover ; and, whatever 
may be your rank or title in life, you have the heart of a coward and 
the spirit of a sycophant." 

No man, he afterwards declares, was a warmer wisher for reconcili- 
ation than himself, before this fatal battle of Lexington. " Thou- 
sands," says he, " are already ruined by British barbarity ; thousands 
more will probably suffer the same fate : those men have other feel- 
ings than us who have nothing suffered I make the sufferer's 

case my own, and I protest, that, were I driven from house and 
home, my property destroyed, and my circumstances ruined, that, as 
a man sensible of injuries, I could never relish the doctrine of recon- 
ciliation, or consider myself bound thereby," 

Page 21. — "There are thousands and tens of thousands who 
would think it glorious to expel from the continent that barbarous and 
hellish power which hath stirred up the Indians and the Negroes to 
destroy us : the cruelty hath a double guilt ; it is dealing brutally by 
us, and treacherously by them. To talk of friendship with those 
in whom our reason forbids us to have faith, and our affections, 
wounded through a thousand pores, instruct us to detest, is madness 
and folly. Every day wears out the little remains of kindred be- 
tween us and them ; and can there be any reason to hope, that, as 
the relationship expires, the affection will increase, or that we shall 
agree better when we have ten times more and greater concerns to 
quarrel over than ever ? 

" Ye that tell us of harmony and reconciliation, can ye restore to 
us the time that is past ? Can ye give to prostitution its former in- 
nocence ? Neither can ye reconcile Britain and America. The last 
cord is now broken ; the people of England are presenting addresses 
against us. There are injuries which nature cannot forgive ; she 
would cease to be nature, if she did. As well can the lover forgive 
the ravisher of his mistress, as the continent forgive the murders of 
Britain. The Almighty hath implanted in us these unextinguishable 
feelings for good and wise purposes." 

Statesmen should, you see, be very careful how they proceed to 
acts of positive hostility against the towns or inhabitants of any coun- 
try with whom they ever intend to be on terms of alliance or kind- 
ness. " Never can true reconcilement grow, where wounds of deadly 
hate have pierced so deep." It is of no consequence how unreason- 
ably the sufferers, or their leaders, or their governments, may have 
conducted themselves before the quarrel has been urged to acts of 
aggression like these. Nature, when in affliction or agony, is deaf 
and blind, and totally insensible to all suggestions of reason, to all 
considerations of original right, and the laws of war and of nations ; 



AMERICAN WAR. 601 

it clamors for nothin;^ but vengeance ; and men are urged to exas- 
peration and frenzy by the very thought and name of a people whose 
soldiers have passed through their country, stabbing their friends 
and kindred, burning their houses, or violating their wives and 
daughters. 

Dr. Ramsay's observations on the independence of America must 
be read. The aftair at Lexington, in April, 1775, exhibited the 
mother country in an odious point of view ; yet he thinks, for a 
twelvemonth after, a majority wished only to be reestablished as sub- 
jects of Great Britain in their ancient rights. Some of the popular 
leaders might have secretly Avished for independence from the begin- 
ning of the controversy ; but their number he conceives to have been 
small, and their sentiments not generally known. The coercion at- 
tempted by the mother country he considers as the cause that natu- 
rally produced the declaration of independence ; and in the short 
space of two years, nearly three milhons of people passed over from 
the love and duty of loyal subjects to the hatred and resentment of 
enemies. The people were encouraged by this measure, the declara- 
tion of independence, to bear up under the calamities of war ; so were 
the army. 

Paine gives the same representation, in his very curious Letter to 
the Abbe Raynal. " It was this measure that pledged," he says, 
" their honor, their interest, their every thing ; and produced that 
glow of thought and energy of heart which enabled them to endure 
the gloomy campaign of 177G." And no doubt, as Ramsay observes, 
" If the interference of France was necessary to give success to the 
resistance of the Americans, the declaration of independence was also 
necessary." The one was the price of the other. 

The year 1776 was the most important in the contest. In this 
year the people of America generally took their side. The great mass 
of the wealth, learning, and influence in all the southern colonies, and 
in most of the northern, Avas in favor of the American cause. Some 
aged persons Avere exceptions ; a fcAv, too, who had been connected 
with government ; some, also, Avho feai'ed the power of Great Britain, 
and others Avho doubted the perseverance of America : but a great 
majority Avas resolved to hazard every thing. In the beginning of 
the year 1776, the colonists Avere farmers, merchants, and mechanics; 
at its close, soldiers. 

The quotations I have thus made from Ramsay, abridging his para- 
graphs, but retaining his Avords, Avill give you a general idea of the 
feelings and reasonings of the Americans during the different stages 
of the contest. Bear them m mind, and let us noAv turn to consider, 
once more, the reasonings and feelings of the legislators and the peo- 
ple of England during the same stages of the same contest. 

AVe Avill refer, as I have announced to you, to the Annual Register, 
The volumes of this Avork issued from the press year after year in 
76 YY 



602 LECTURE XXXIII. 

succession ; they are, therefore, the very mirrors of the pubhc senti- 
ment. They exhibit the living state of affairs on each side of the 
Atlantic as they appeared at each period to some very active and in- 
telligent observer, the writer of this work, whose proper business it 
was to observe. The author, as I have already mentioned, was Mr. 
Burke ; but the impartiality with which the arguments and views on 
each side of the question are stated is marvellous. 

Begin, if you please, with the eighth volume, for the year 1765, 
and with the commercial regulations of Mr. George Grenville ; pro- 
ceed to the Stamp Act, and you arrive immediately at the most clear 
indications of very general discontent and resistance all over America. 
This general discontent and resistance is the first point, and one of 
great consequence ; and this is stated. In the ninth volume you have a 
description of the ruinous effects of this exercise of the right of Great 
Britain to tax America, — the effects produced upon the trade and 
the manufactures on each side of the Atlantic. In Great Britain, 
indeed, men appear to have been divided in opinion on the right of 
taxing America ; but on the ijoiver of coercing her by the military 
and naval force of this country there seems to have been no difference 
of opinion. This point, at this period (in 1765), seems to have been 
taken for granted. 

In 1766, however, the Stamp Act is repealed. It was repealed, 
because during this interval, and this only, the administration was in 
the hands of a portion of the Whig party. Lord Rockingham and his 
friends, who, to their eternal honor, put their theories into practice, 
their principles of mild government, and showed an attention to the 
petitions of men who, whether right or wrong, thought they were in 
danger of being enslaved. But in the twelfth volume we have new 
attempts to enforce the right of taxation ; we have the tea tax : and 
in the thirteenth, the arguments on each side of the question. What 
follows ? In the seventeenth volume we have the riots at Boston, the 
seizure of the Gasp^e sloop of war by the populace ; and in conse- 
quence of these outrages, an act of Parliament to shut up the port of 
Boston ; a disposition to carry every thing to extremities on this side 
of the Atlantic ; the fatal bill for regulating the constitution of Massa- 
chusetts ; and even the obsolete act of Henry the Eighth revived and 
converted, in the most impolitic manner, to the most unexpected pur- 
pose, — that of bringing offenders in America to be tried, if necessary, 
in England. But the eighteenth volume opens with observing that 
the prognostics of the opposition had been all verified, that the effect 
of these different acts had been all as injurious as possible ; and in the 
second chapter we have in America the ominous meeting of a general 
congress, in September, 1774. The instructions given to the dele- 
gates appeared to the editor of the Annual Register, though some- 
times violent, reasonable and good. The resolutions that were pass- 
ed, though indicating resistance, were still of a defensive nature. 



AMERICAN AVAR. 603 

And we have next their declaration of rights, their petitions and me- 
morials to the kinf:^, the people of Great Britain, &c., &c. The 
strong point of their case seems to be, that they considered them- 
selves as left in a state of happiness and prosperity at the peace 
of 17G3, and that their wish was only to be restored to that former 
state, and nothing more. 

In the mean time, on all these important subjects, it is said by the 
Annual Register that a very general indiiference prevailed in this 
country. Marvellous this, it may now be thought : America had re- 
sisted ; and there prevailed, it seems, a very general indifference ! 
Our young members of Parliament were probably occupied only with 
their dress, their equipage, and their clubs ; our country gentlemen 
with their game laws, and their expected relief from the land tax ; 
and they all, young and old, in town and out, left the affairs of the 
nation to those wiser heads which, they somewhat rashly supposed, 
must of course be found in the cabinet ! 

The philosophic views of the merchants and manufacturers, those 
of them who were not creditors of American houses, and likely to lose 
their property by the expected rupture, were, it seems, at this period, 
about the level of the gay and grave triflers I have just alluded to ; 
and as it was thought that a countenance of resolution, if still main- 
tained, would certainly awe the Americans into obedience, there was 
a kind of general vote, it seems, that we were to go on, and that the 
ministry knew best. Prudence in politics was supposed to be like the 
Christian charity that " hopeth all things, and believeth all things." 

The new Parliament met in November, 1774. The ministry were, 
indeed, reproached with the failure of their predictions, and it was 
evident not only that the maze was mighty, but that they were all 
without a plan. Their critics, however, were only seventy-three (the 
number of opposition), and their admirers (themselves included) two 
hundred and sixty-four. The peers of the realm were too many of 
them distinguishable from their inferiors only by their titles. No 
other claim to superiority was visible. The wisdom of Lord Chatham, 
like the wisdom of Mr. Burke, was exerted in vain. His assertions 
and advice should be compared with those of the peers in office who 
surrounded him in the House. The ministers had taken their ground 
(in 1774) ; the supremacy of Great Britain was to be enforced ; the 
Americans could not persevere, as they held, in their systems of self- 
denial and schemes of non-importation ; they could not, it was said, 
become soldiers. Franklin, with a petition, was not heard ; some of 
the commercial bodies fored not much better ; and the numbers of 
ministry and opposition in the two houses (the measures of the pro- 
portion of reasonableness and unreasonableness in each) were about 
two to one in the upper, and three to one in the lower.* The pi'opor- 

* The votes at this period, as jrivcn in Hansard and the Annual Register, make the 
proportion in the upper house very dili'crent, and certainly indicate no such superiority 



60-i LECTURE XXXIII. 

tion was better in the upper house on account of the great Whig 
families found there. 

We have next some vacillating conduct of Lord North, and even a 
kind of conciliatory scheme actually proposed by him in his place, 
amid the alarm of his friends, and the amazement of all. This was 
the celebrated occasion when he Avas upon his legs nine different times 
to unsay what he had said, because what he had certainly said was 
found so unpalatable to his friends and supporters. The brighter 
rays of peace, it seems, that shot athwart his speech, were unwelcome 
visitants on his own side of the House, " the reign of chaos and old 
night " ; and Sir Gilbert Elliot, Wedderburn, and at last the minister 
himself, were forced to huddle up in fogs and gloom the rainbow 
tints that might have indicated too soon that the storm was passing 
away. 

But the storm was not to pass away : force was, in fact, to be 
tried ; and the force determined upon was declared by the opposition 
to be, as it afterwards proved, inadequate to effect its purpose. We 
have, in the mean time, very great unanimity in America ; the peti- 
tion from New York, made under very particular circumstances, re- 
jected, as well as Mr. Burke's conciliatory motion, by the British 
House of Commons. The civil war, therefore, begins in April, 1775. 
What follows ? At the end of the first campaign, at the end of 1775, 
a regular army, of the most unquestionable discipline and valor, ten 
thousand men, with all their proper accompaniments of artillery and 
a naval force, sent out in this impolitic manner to conquer America, 
had achieved — what ? The conquest of Bunker's Hill ! — that is, 
had conquered of the great continent of America just as much space as 
lay covered, at the end of the action, with the dead and the dying ! 

over the lower house as is here staterl. but quite the contrary. In offset to the vote in 
the House of Commons, 73 to 264, referred to near the beginning of the paragraph, we 
have in the House of Lords, at the same time, and on a question of similar character, 
— an Amendment by the friends of America to the Address of Thanks in answer to the 
King's Speech at the opening of the session, — a vote of onlj- 13 to 63; nearly five to one 
in the latter case, against a little over three to one in the former. A few weeks after- 
wards, on the subject of a Joint Addi'css to the King respecting the Disturbances in 
America, the votes in the two houses were 296 to 106, and 104 to 29; less than three 
to one in the lower house, against nearly four to one in the upper. Immediately fol- 
lowing this was the Bill for llestraining the Trade of the New England Colonies, the 
vote upon which in the Commons stood 201 to 85 (a slight relative falling off in the 
opposition), and in the Lords, as before, 104 to 29. At the opening of the next session, 
seven months afterwards, on an Amendment, couched in the same terms in both houses, 
to the Address of Thanks, the votes were 108 to 278 in the lower house, and 29 to 69 
in the upper ; making the proportions nearly equal, or about five to two against seven 
to three. On the American Prohibitory Bill', a few weeks later, on which the House of 
Commons divided no less than six times, the greatest vote in this branch was 207 to 
55, or less than four to one, against 78 to 19, or more than four to one, in the Lords. 
On the subject of employing the Hessian troops, near the close of the session, the votes 
in the two houses stood 242 to 88, and 100 to 32; a little less than three to one in the 
lower house, against a little over three to one in the upper. — These seem to have been 
the only questions relating to American affairs which engaged the joint attention of the 
two houses at or near the period referred to in the text, the votes upon which are pre- 
served. — N. 



AMERICAN WAR. 605 

It was but a cheerless beginning of this unhappy contest to have 
coals, and fagots, and vegetables, and vinegar, and hay, oxen, and 
sheep, transported three thousand miles across the Atlantic, for the 
support of the gallant men who were sent to reduce the Americans to 
obedience. Very lucrative contracts might, indeed, be made by in- 
dividuals, and they and their connections might swell the clamors, — 
they certainly did, — in and out of Parliament, for the right of tax- 
ing America. But all this might happen while the English Channel 
was strewed, as it was strewed, with the floating carcasses of the 
animals that were continually perishing in the transports, and while 
the streets of Boston, our military station, were filled with comjDlaints, 
and its hospitals with sickness. 

One effort more was made by Congress. About August, 1775, 
Mr. Penn arrived in London with a petition to the king, subscribed 
by all the members of Congress, and called by the Americans " the 
olive-branch." In America it might be called, what it was thought, 
the olive-branch ; but darkness and tempest still dwelt on the face 
of the waters, and there was no resting-place for him who bore it. 
Mr. Penn was informed by the minister that no answer could be re- 
turned. 

This seems an epoch in the dispute : it should be examined by 
those who mean to reap the instruction of history. The reasonings 
of the diiferent parties and descriptions of men in and out of Parlia- 
ment, at this particular period, — the middle and close of the year 
1775, — are very remarkable. They will illustrate, I apprehend, 
the influence of those causes which I have ventured to propose in ex- 
planation of the conduct of the mother country : the general ignorance 
of the real nature of our commercial prosperity ; the vulgar notions 
on political subjects into which communities are always liable to fall ; 
and the very high piinciples of government wdiich people of property 
and respectability, under any mixed constitution, are always too ready 
to insist upon. 

Many of the first members in opposition (I quote from the Annual 
Register), both peers and commoners, it was expected, during the 
session, were more likely to be found in the Tower, for treasonable 
practices, than in their places in the two houses. — Sir George 
Savile and Lord Rockingham in the Tower ! — And Mr. Penn de- 
clared at the bai- of the House of Lords, that, during the whole of 
his stay in London, he had never been asked a single question relative 
to America, by any minister or person in power whatever. 

During the first half of the year 1776, the war was, it seems, in 
England not unpopular. National rights were supposed to be in- 
vaded ; national burdens, it was expected (ludicrous expectations !), 
would be alleviated. The expenses of the contest were not yet felt ; 
and the hospitals and fields of battle were at a distance. A general 
carelessness as to the present and the future — perhaps the effect 

YY * 



606 LECTURE XXXIII. 

of prosperity — was very observable in the people of England at this 
time. The declaration of independence had, it seems, in the latter 
part of 177G, an unfortunate effect. Instead of showing the people 
how great had been the mistakes of their rulers, it rather tended to 
unite them in support of men who had always advised coercive meas- 
ures, and who insisted that independence had been the secret object 
of the American patriots from the first. The war was considered as 
unavoidable, and almost as one of self-defence. The king's speech, 
the debates in Parliament, and the conversations in private society 
breathed nothing but accusations against the Americans, approbation 
of our own conduct, and resolutions to resist rebellion and chastise 
ingratitude. 

An enlightened reasoner upon the affiiirs of mankind would rather 
have been occupied, all this time, In considering how far it might be 
wise for Great Britain to make the best of a conjuncture of circum- 
stances so unfortunate, and to attempt some scheme of confederation 
or amity and alliance with America, on the principle of acknowledg- 
ing at once that independence which they had asserted. Such would 
certainly have been the advice of Dean Tucker, and pi-obably of Mr. 
Robinson : but a community Is generally at fifty years' distance from 
its real philosophers. The majorities in the two houses, on amend- 
ments of a conciliatory nature, were two hundred and forty-two to 
eighty-seven in the lower, and one hundred and twenty-six to ninety- 
one in the upper.* The opposition about this time seem even to have 
seceded, and given up their efforts. It is very difficult, no doubt, for 
men of rank and Intelligence to attend with the patience of physicians, 
and watch over the diseases of the public mind ; but the misfortune is, 
these secessions never awaken any sympathy in the country, and uni- 
formly fail in their purpose. This particular secession, however, gave 
occasion to a very remarkable composition which is now regularly 
published in Burke's Works. It was intended as an address to the 
king on the subject of this secession, or rather on the general subject 
of American politics. Being addressed to the sovereign, it could 
have neither the faults, nor some of the particular merits, of Mr. 
Burke's other compositions. But it is in its matter very weighty; it 
is very fine, level writing, and quite a model In its way. 

The campaign of 1777 was marked by the successes of General 
Howe and the misfortunes of General Burgoyne ; but the result of 
two decided victories on the part of the former was only the posses- 

* This is a great mistake. The amendments in question — amendments to the 
Address of Thanks in answer to the King's Speech at the opening of the session, Oc- 
tober 31, 1776 — were rejected in the lower house by a vote of 87 to 242, as is stated in 
the text ; liut in the upper house, according to both Hansard and the Annual Register, 
the numbers were only 26 to 91, including proxies. The largest vote in this branch, 
during the session, appears to have been that on the Earl of Chatham's motion for an 
Address to the King to put a Stop to Hostilities in America, May 30, 1777, and includ- 
ing proxies was but 28 to 99. — N. 



AMERICAN WAR. 607 

sion of Philadelphia, and as much of the adjacent country as the 
British commanded by their arms. The result of the misfortunes of 
the latter was the entire surrender and capture of the royal army. 

The general conclusion from the whole was, that the country pre- 
sented difficulties that were insurmountable, and that the enemy could 
not be brought to engage without his consent ; that the subjugation, 
therefore, of the continent was impossiljle. The English miiiisters 
drew no such lessons from these events ; but the French did, and im- 
mediately resolved to join the Americans. 

The opposition, even before the news of the capture of General 
Burgoyne had arrived, remonstrated loudly, and with great force of 
argument, against any further attempts at coercion, but in vain. 
Their amendments were negatived in the Commons, two hundred and 
forty-three to eighty-six ; in the Lords, notwithstanding the exertions 
and predictions of Lord Chatham, ninety-seven to twenty-eight. In- 
terest of money, it seems, rose ; the stocks fell, and so did the value 
of real estates. The country gentlemen looked blank, and perceived 
that all was wrong ; but, not knowing how to set things right, acqui- 
esced in whatever was proposed to them, — silently, indeed, but they 
acquiesced. 

In the opening of the year 1778, Lord North brought in his con- 
ciHatory bills, and produced his creed on the general subject of the 
American troubles. Neither the creed nor the bills were very good, 
but they were both three years too late. Reproaches followed from 
Mr. Fox at his tardy wisdom ; and his followers and the country 
gentlemen sat in mixed indignation and despair. Lord Carlisle was 
afterwards the bearer of this vain attempt at accommodation. It is 
impossible for either nations or individuals, in the management of a 
dispute, to have the benefit of two opposite chances. They may be, 
from the first, moderate, pacific, magnanimous ; they will thus secure 
certain advantages, and they will lose possible advantages. They 
may, on the contrary, be haughty, warhke, and selfish ; their chances 
and advantages will then be the reverse of the former. It is impos- 
sible to unite the two. 

France joined in March, 1778.* The ministry and the people of 
England were furious, though the opponents of the American war had 
always predicted the event. The only question with these opponents 
of the war now was, whether America should not immediately be 
acknowledged an independent power. All idea of the coercion of 
America must have been now, among reasonable men, at an end. 
But the ministers waited till another roj^al army was lost, under Lord 
CornwalUs ; and they had then only to consider how they could keep 
the Americans in check, protect the West India islands, pacify Ire- 
land, and save England itself from the superior fleets of the enemy. 

* The treaty of alliance with France was signed February 6, 1778 ; and the French 
forces arrived in America the following Julv. Sparks's "Writings of Washington, 
V. 325, VI. 3. — N. 



608 LECTURE XXXIII. 

Such was the unliappy situation to which the American contest 
was at last brought by men who were debaters in ParUament, but not 
statesmen. Their last conciliatory effort reached America in April, 
1778. " There was a day," repUed General Washington to Gov- 
ernor Trumbull,* " there was a day, when even this step, from our 
then acknowledged parent state, might have been accepted with joy 
and gratitude ; but that day. Sir, is past irrevocably." 

What I have now delivered to you, borrowing my materials from 
Ramsay and the Annual Register, will give you some general notion 
of the instruction to be derived from a comparison of the opinions and 
feelings of the inhabitants of America with those of the people of this 
country at each corresponding period. 

This kind of instruction may be still further amphfied by a refer- 
ence to the Memoirs of Gibbon. Look at his private letters, and ob- 
serve the passages where any mention is made of America. I had 
extracted several of them, meaning to read them to you ; but I for- 
bear, lest I should dwell too long upon a lesson that is, from the first 
to the last, sufiiciently striking. 

Of the powers of the mind of Gibbon I need not speak, and I must 
confess that the few sentences which appear in his confidential letters, 
when written by such a man, and when contrasted, as they should be, 
with what in the mean time was passing in America, appear to me to 
speak volumes. Gibbon lived in the first society in London, with Lord 
North and his friends ; was a member of Parliament, and acquainted, 
no doubt, in a general manner, with their reasonings and measures. 
The lively, superficial glance which he casts upon these momentous 
transactions must have been much the same with that of other people 
of consequence and talents around liim ; and it is in the same careless, 
unfeeling, and presumptuous manner that men in easy circumstances, 
and men of rank and fortune, are but too often talking, writing, and 
voting, on all concerns of national policy, not immediately connected 
with their own personal interests. It is necessary that I should de- 
clare to you, for it is on this account that I must recommend them to 
your perusal, that a more lamentable inattention than is displayed in 
these letters of Mr. Gibbon, from first to last, to all the facts and to 
all the principles that properly belonged to this great subject of Ameri- 
ca, one more striking, and, if duly considered, one more valuable, 
cannot be offered for your instruction. I do not quote them, not 
only for the reasons I have mentioned, but because the letters are 
everywhere full of spirit and entertainment, and must, of course, be 
read by every man of education. I must again and again repeat, that 
these things are, and ought to be, a warning to us, how we suffer our- 
selves to be guilty of such faults, m matters of national policy, as even 
the talents of Gibbon did not protect him from, — how we are either 

* Gov. Trumbull, of Connecticut, to Gov. Tryon, of New York. See Annual Eegis- 
terfor 1778, p. 216*]. — N. 



AMERICAN WAR. 609 

arrogant or selfish, ■R'itli regard to foreign nations, arbitrary in our 
notions of goveniment, or consenting to the short-sighted, petty, paltry 
expedients of vulgar politics. 

For Lord North, on this occasion, a man of fine talents and mild 
temper, there can be no excuse. He must have been guilty of ac- 
quiescing in measures the general folly of which he must have resolved 
to shut out from his view. Either this, or he is an example to show 
that mi and eloquence and acuteness and dexterity in debate are one 
thing, while decision, elevation, strength, and clearness of vmderstand- 
ing, such as are indispensable in the rulers of mankind, are quite 
another. He shmabered on, amid the do\Miy pleasures of patronage 
and social regard ; amid shifts and expedients and discreditable fail- 
ures, vernal hopes and winter disappointments ; uniformly a year too 
late in every project he formed ; and while he talked of hanng fol- 
lowed up the system of his predecessors, of not being the original 
author of a dispute from which he could not disengage himself, and 
of having pursued the conduct recommended to him by the advice of 
Parliament and the wishes of the nation (the unfair excuses, these, 
and palliatives of bad ministers at all times) he saw the empire gradu- 
ally dismembered, his administration ending in defeat and disgrace, 
and his character and fame as a statesman, in the opinion of posterity, 
lost for ever. This is not to pass too harsh a judgment upon him, nor 
is it to judge after the event ; nothing is now known that was not then 
known, and nothing happened that was not repeatedly predicted. " It 
was known, for instance, that the Americans were, on their first set- 
tlement, repubhcans ; that the Pelhams and the Walpoles had care- 
fully abstained from stirring the critical question of American taxa- 
tion ; the difficulties and irritations connected with the restraint of 
the contraband trade of the colonies were also knowm. The spirit 
shown on the subject of the Stamp Act, both on its enactment and 
on its repeal, was a matter of the most perfect notoriety. Lord 
North, and his predecessors. Lord Grenville and Charles ToAvnshend, 
had nothing to learn with respect to the influence of posts and places 
on the minds of men ; and it Avas known very well, that the croANTi 
had no very extensive or effective influence, arising from its patron- 
age in North America. It was clear, therefore, that the precise 
merit of every measure, and its agreeahleness to the notions, habits, 
and interests of the people, were points of the utmost consequence. 
These ministers were aware, or might have been, that this right of 
taxation was the particular point on which the Americans were sensi- 
tive. Fanaticism, as it was well known, made a part of the national 
character of America. Its transition from religious to civil liberty 
was very intelligible ; it was part of the instruction even of our o\n\ 
history, in the times of Charles the First. It was known that a 
state of independence on the mother country was (at least, might \ 
very possibly be) the ambition of many bolder spirits in America : ' 
77 



610 LECTURE XXXIV. 

again, that this was even the state to which the prosperity of large 
and distant colonies naturally tends. Every one was aware that dif- 
ferent opinions existed in America on the justice of the claims of 
Great Britain ; it was, therefore, the obvious poUcy of the rulers of 
Great Britain so to deport themselves, that those Avho in America 
undertook their defence should have as good a case as possible against 
the opposite party. All these things were or might have been known 
and understood ; and when all that was requested by the petitions 
from America was, in a word, only the renewal of their situation at 
the peace in 1763, only a return to the old system, what are we to 
say, when we see these petitions disregarded, troops sent to Boston, 
soldiers hired from Germany to force into submission such an immense 
continent as America, situated on the other side of the Atlantic ? 

There is a progress in these things, but it is from mistake to folly, 
from folly to fault, from fault to crime ; it is at least from fault to the 
shedding of blood in a quarrel, of which the theoretical justice must 
have been confessed by every one to be a matter of some debate, but 
of which the issue, whatever direction it might take, could not have 
been well expected by any one to be favorable to the real interests of 
the mother country, if the question was once reduced to a question of 
arms.* 



LECTURE XXXIV. 



AMERICAN WAR. 

In my last lecture I endeavoured to exhibit to you the different 
views that were taken of the same measures and events by the Ameri- 
cans on the one side, and by the British ministers and people on the 
other. I alluded to passages in the account given by Ramsay, and 
to passages in the Annual Register ; these I recommended to your 
study. I did so because men fail in the management of a dispute, 
whether as statesmen or individuals, chiefly because they never enter 
into the particular views and feelings of those to whom they are op- 

* I had observed in the above lecture, that for Lord North there could be no excuse ; 
what excuse there is I have lately, many years after, had an opportunity of ascertain- 
ing. I have seen papers which show that Lord North, after the affair at Saratoga, from 
the beginning of the year 1778, made every effort to procure from the king permission 
to resign. These efforts were continually repeated for a long period, but in vain : the 
king could not give up the idea of coercing America, and therefore could not part with 
the only man who was, he thought, fit to manage the House of Commons. 



AMERICAN WAR. 611 

posed. Of this fault in mankind no instances can be produced more 
strong than those which I yesterday exhibited. Paine, the popular 
writer of America, considered the English nation as one with which 
no terms were to be kept, — as a " hellish nation," and her soldiers 
as "murderers": yet were these soldiers sent to enforce the meas- 
ures of Lord North, the most amiable of men, who thought the sover- 
eignty lay in the parent state ; that in the rights of sovereignty was 
included the right of taxation ; and as far as the moral part of the 
case was concerned, believed himself perfectly justified in asserting 
the supremacy of Great Britain. In this opinion he was supported by 
a decided majority of the English nation in and out of Parliament ; 
while the pamphlet of Paine, whatever may justly be thought of the 
coarseness and fury of such terms as I have mentioned, was uni- 
versally read and admired in America, and is said to have contributed 
most materially to the vote of independence passed by Congress in 
177(3. Again, the representations of Ramsay, as well as the known 
facts, display the violence with which the Americans reasoned and 
felt ; while the pages of the Aimual Register show how indifferent or 
how ignorant were in the mean time the generality of the English 
people. These are edifying examples of the nature of the human 
mind to those who will reflect upon them, and as such I yesterday 
recommended them to your attention: refer to whichever side of the 
Atlantic you choose, the instruction will be found. I am, however, 
not speaking to Americans, and it is more fit that I should dwell upon 
the faults which we ourselves exhibited, more particularly as they lost 
us half our empire. Certainly there was in England and in her 
statesmen a total inattention to the particular character, feelings, and 
opinions of the American people ; and to direct your reflection to this 
particular part and most important part of the subject was, as I have 
already mentioned, the business of the lecture of yesterday. But I 
meant you also to see at the same time what I conceive to be the 
great political lesson of the American dispute, — the impolicy of 
harsh government ; and this, which is the lesson of the American dis- 
pute, is also the great lesson of history. I have never failed to point 
it out to you. There is an instance of this kind very memorable in 
the annals of Europe, to which I called your attention in a former 
lecture ; as it bears a certain resemblance in many important points 
to the case before us, I will now again allude to it, and again re- . 
quest you to consider it : it is the instance of the Low Countries and 
Spain. It can scarcely be necessary to say that no comparison is in- 
tended between the project of introducing the Inquisition in the one 
case and the Stamp Act in the other ; but there is a certain analogy 
in the want of policy in the two cabinets at these diff"ercnt periods, 
which is sufficiently strong to be worth your observation; in each 
case the great question was coercion or not, — harsh government or 
mild. 



612 LECTURE XXXIV. 

The lessons of history are neglected by those who are too intemper- 
ate to listen to any admonition, from whatever quarter it may come, 
and by those who have not philosophy enough either to relish histori- 
cal inquiries, or to separate principles from the particular circum- 
stances by which they may be surrounded. To mark, however, the 
common appearance of any great principles in the case that is past 
and in the case before us is to read history with proper advantage ; 
arid to see, or not to see, instruction of this kind, is the great distinc- 
tion between the statesman who may be trusted in critical times, and 
the mere man of office, who, in all such critical times, is more hkely 
to injure than to serve his country. 

In a former lecture, when alluding to the great struggle between 
Spain and the Low Countries, as I have already said, I mentioned the 
analogy in many important points between this great contest and our 
own American dispute. I have since found, on examining the de- 
bates in the Commons, that the instance of the Flemings, and their 
successful resistance to the Spanish monarchy, was not overlooked ; 
it was alluded to by Governor Johnstone, and it is probable that he 
insisted upon it at some length. I shall make a short reference to 
the historian Bentivoglio, and take the common translation, that you 
may not be listening to any representations of mine. You will see 
the leading points of similarity, I doubt not, without any assistance 
from me. 

" The council of Spain," says Bentivoglio, " was then full of many 
eminent personages. Amongst the rest, the Duke of Alva and the 
Duke of Feria were in great esteem both with the king and council. 

These two were of differing opinions Upon a certain 

day, then, when the king himself was in council to resolve what was 
to be done in this so important business, the Duke of Feria spake 
thus : — 

" 'To provide for the evils wherewith Flanders is afflicted, 

't is very necessary first to know their causes. And this without all 
doubt ought chiefly to be attributed to the terror which the Inquisi- 
tion and the edicts have infused into that country. The Flemish 
have apprehended, and do apprehend now more than ever, to have 
their consciences violated by such ways, and to undergo all other 
greater affliction and misery ; and this it is which hath made them 
fall at last into so many and so heinous outrages. That under which 
Flanders doth at this present labor is, if I may so call it, a frenzy of 
fear If the bare name of Inquisition hath put Flan- 
ders into such commotions, what will that nation do when they shall 
see themselves threatened with the forces of a foreign army ? What 
fear, what horror, will they thereat conceive ! They will be- 
lieve that the government of Spain will be by force brought into 
Flanders ; that their privileges will be violated, their institutions over- 
thrown, their faults severely punished, their liberties oppressed by 



AMERICAN WAR. 613 

garrisons, and finally be buried in citadels People's fear dotli 

ofttimes degenerate into desperation. So tlie Flemings growing des- 
perate, and the nobility cloaking themselves no longer under cove- 
nants and petitions, nor the common people falling into slight tumults, 
but the whole country going into a general rebelUon, all may, with one 
accord, oppose our forces, and not suffer them to enter. And say the 
Flemish were not apt enough of themselves to make this opposition, 
will they peradventure want neighbours who will use all means to in- 
cite them thereunto ? But let it be granted that the Spanish 

forces be suffered to enter, are we any whit the more secure 

that the country may not alter afterwards, and be troubled ? Great 
punishments must certainly be undergone, and force must divers ways 
be secured by greater force. The people there will then begin to 
despair more than ever ; they will call punishment oppression, and 
severity tyranny, citadels yokes, and garrisons chains and fetters ; 
and thus at last they will break out into rebellion and arms. Thus 
will the war be kindled. Nor do I know whether it will be afterwards 
as easily ended as it would have been easy at first not to have begun 
it. Nature, by the strong situation of sea and rivers, will fight for 
them ; they themselves will fight desperately, in defence, as they will 
say, of themselves, wives, children, and liberty. The opulency of 
their own country will furnish them with gallant forces, and much 
more the opportunity of their neighbours. On the contrary, how 
heavy a burden of war will your Majesty be to sustain! Succours at 
so great a distance will prove very slow, and very costly both by sea 

and land The event of war is always uncertain ; and fortune, 

which in other human accidents is content with a part, will here have 
the whole dominion. If the success prove favorable to your Majesty, 
the victory will be bought with blood, and against the blood of your 
subjects. But if the contrary should fall out (which God forbid!), 

not only men, but states, would be lost ; and so at last, by 

too deplorable event, we shall be taught how much fair means would 
have been better than bitter proceedings for the accommodation of 
the aflairs of those provinces. It is to those fair means that I exhort 
you, and that by all means you give over any thought of the other. 
Every province, every kingdom, hath its particular nature, like unto 

human bodies One government is proper for Spain, another 

for the Indies, another for your states in Italy, and so likewise others 

in Flanders Let the Flemish, then, be permitted to enjoy the 

government of Flanders. Free them from all suspicion either of In- 
quisition, foreign forces, or any other more dreaded violence. Let 
one contrary cure another ; so the people's fear ceasing, the country 

commotions will cease Let the punishment of a few serve for 

the example of all ; and let it be laid there where the country may be 
least exasperated thereby. In fine, clemency becomes a prince ; 
other people are capable of other virtues.' " 

zz 



614 LECTURE XXXIV. 

But the Duke of Alva thought not so ; like the fallen angel of Mil- 
ton, and like other fallen angels in cabinets and senates, his " sentence 
was for open -war." " ' To begin,' says he, ' most puissant Prince, 
■where the Duke of Feria ended, I shall both truly and freely deny 
that it is now in your Majesty's power to use clemency, which virtue, 

ill-used, degenerates into abject servility How long will you 

endure to receive laws in Flanders, instead of giving them ? What 
remains now but that the Flemish, who upon all occasion boast them- 
selves to be as well free as subjects, having denied all obedience to 
the Church, may also altogether deny it to you ? so as a second 
Switzers' commonwealth shall be seen to arise ; or rather, in- 
stead of a popular tyranny, Orange and Egmont, and the other authors 

of so many base novelties, shall boldly divide those provinces 

amongst themselves. The affairs of Flanders do at the present lean 
this way ; and shall we talk of pardon ? and shall it be in your power 
to make the Church lose the patrimony of so many of the faithful, and 

your crown the like of so many opulent countries ? Is not your 

authority oppugned on all sides by covenants, petitions, and a thousand 
other perfidious practices ? You have erred, then, sufficiently already, 
in using only fair means. And to say truth, to what end hath so long 
patience and dissimulation served, unless to make the disorders still 

the greater, and the authors thereof more audacious ? My 

opinion is, that without more delay you send an army into those 
provinces On what side shall any one so much as dare to op- 
pose the passage of your forces ? Will the Flemish peradventure do 
it ? as if it were as easy to raise an army as to frame a conspiracy, and 
that the rabble rout will be as ready to fight against armed squadrons 
as they have been to wage war so wickedly against the sacred images 

and altars France is wholly on fire with civil war ; a woman 

sits at the helm of government in England ; and what can be feared 
from Germany, divided amongst so many princes, and so at variance 
within themselves ? Moreover, your case will be theirs : all princes are 

equally concerned in the people's disobedience ; the example 

reaches ahvays to all. On the contrary, when was ever your empire 
in greater power and tranquillity ? Your forces will, then, with- 
out any manner of difficulty, be received in Flanders And 

if that frenzy, as it is termed, of fear, but which is, indeed, of perfidi- 
ousness, made the Flemish fall blindfold into open rebellion, why ought 
not your forces hope for all good success against them ; yours, which 
will be so just, and so potent against theirs, which are tumultuary, 

managed by abject men, rebels to God and to their prince ? 

We shall see the rebellion suppressed almost as soon as born, by those 

which shall noAv enter Flanders Doubtlessly there are variety 

of governments, but there can be no variance in the bond of obedience 
which is due by the people unto their prince. Subjects are born with 
this law ; and when they go about to break it, 't is they that use \io- 



AMERICAN WAR. 615 

lence, they receive it not Your Majesty shall not, then, use 

force, save only to suppress force ; nor sharp remedies, till after hav- 
ing so long in vain used moderate ones. The wound is degenerated 
into a gangrene ; it requires fire and sword.' " 

So thought the Duke of Alva, and fire and sword were applied. 
The result was, that he returned from the Low Countries, as in after 
times did the generals of England from America, unable to accom- 
plish the subjection of men whom he had despised ; men who might 
have been retained in obedience by the mild counsels of the Duke of 
Feria, but who could see in his " sharp remedies," as he termed them, 
nothing but an excess of cruelty and injustice, that dissolved at once 
all the ordinary bonds of affection and allegiance. 

Other instances might be produced from history ; the wisdom, the 
duty, of mild government I conceive to be the great, but disregarded, 
lesson of all history. 

Passing now from the first part of the general subject, the origin 
of the dispute, the second seems to be the conduct of it. 

The student will be already impatient to know how it could possibly 
happen that the fleets and armies of this country should be success- 
fully resisted by those who had neither ; why Howe did not drive 
Washington from the field ; why regular armies of acknowledged skill 
and bravery did not disperse every irregular combination of men 
whenever they appeared, — support the governors of the provinces 
in the enforcement of British acts of Parliament, — and by the as- 
sistance of the loyalists, partly by persuasion and partly by force, as- 
sert and establish the sovereignty of the mother country. 

Now, to answer this general question, it is necessary to read the 
history of the American war. The authorities you must more par- 
ticularly consult are, Washington's Letters, and the Life of Washing- 
ton by Marshall; Stedman's Histoz-y of the American War; and the 
examination into the conduct of Sir WilUam Howe by the House of 
Commons, which you will find given in the Debates. 

I will allude to this general subject of the conduct of the war in 
the case of Sir William Howe, not only to exhibit to you the proper 
means of answering to yourselves a very natural question, but for the 
sake of drawing your attention to other topics perhaps still more im- 
portant. For instance, I shall refer to the Letters of Washini'-ton 
and to the Life of Washington ; and the extracts I shall produce, in 
the first place, will enable you, and can alone enable 3'ou, to judge 
of the merit of Washington himself, the great character of the last 
century. In the next place, they will still further substantiate several 
of the points I have already been endeavouring to establish, — the 
faults and follies, I mean, of England. You will see the most constant 
and extreme distress exhibited by Washington in these letters ; the 
great inference you are to draw is, therefore, not only how great must 
have been the want of enterprise in Sir William Howe, but how great 



616 LECTURE XXXIV. 

must liave been the original impolicy and subsequent mismanagement 
of the quarrel on our part, so to exasperate the Americans, that they 
should think of beginning, of prosecuting, of persevering in a system 
of resistance under difficulties so serious, distresses so painful, and 
privations so intolerable. 

There are other conclusions to be drawn from these documents, — 
the superiority, I am sorry to say, of regular armies over all and 
every description of militia : conclusions, too, with respect to the re- 
publican character, and those very unfavorable to it ; its ridiculous 
jealousy, its impracticable nature, its coarseness, its harshness. 

Lastly, you will observe, that, while you are reading these accounts 
of the distresses and difficulties of Washington, you are, in fact, pass- 
ing over, in your perusal, the materials of the most serious charge 
that I think can be brought against the American leaders in this dis- 
pute ; because it is not quite enough that there should be right on 
the side of those who mean to resist, — there should also be a fair, 
and, indeed, more than a fair, chance of success. Men cannot be 
otherwise justified in leading on their countrymen into measures 
which will be considered by their rulers, or oppressors, if you please, 
as rebellion, and punished as such by fire and sword. Of all the 
questions that occur in the whole of this dispute, this seems to me 
one of the most difficult, — whether the very able men who composed 
the Congress (admitting the justice of the cause) did or did not hurry 
on the resistance of their countrymen at too great a rate, and embark 
in the fearful enterprise of open rebellion against the mother country 
with means far too disproportionate to the occasion. Of this, it will be 
said, the actors in the scene were the best and can be the only judges, 
and that at least they were justified by the event. Perhaps not ; — 
the difficulties they had to struggle with were all most obviously to 
be expected ; while the causes of their success, some of them, and 
those very important, Avere not so : no one, for instance, could have 
presupposed such a want of skill and enterprise in the British minis- 
ters and generals. 

On the whole, though the attempt of Great Britain permanently to 
establish a system of taxation by force was, from the first, not a little 
hopeless, from the distance and impracticability of the country and 
the spirit and unanimity of the inhabitants, and though it was an at- 
tempt that could not ultimatel// be successful, still it must be allowed, 
on the other side, that the American leaders won the independence 
of their country at a much less expense of carnage and desolation, 
long as the war lasted, than they had any reason to expect. But 
you must consider the books which I have mentioned. In the mean 
time, I will make some references to these authorities, and as much 
as possible use the words I find in them, as 1 have before done while 
adverting to the History of Ramsay. 

There is a small volume purporting to be Letters of Washington, 



AIVIERICAN WAR. 617 

and in which are included several to 3Irs. WasJdngton ; these are 
not genuine.* Those letters which are authentic rest upon the author- 
ity of an appeal to ^Ir. Pinckney, at that time the American ambas- 
sador. They do not descend lower than December, 1778 ; they 
comprehend but a part of what the editor has collected. On the 
whole, these letters rather disappoint expectation ; they partake too 
much of the nature of state papers. They were, indeed, addressed 
to Congress, and are written in a manner so calm and sedate, that 
they give but an imperfect portrait of what we wish to see, — the 
various hopes and disappointments that must have affected the mind 
of Washington in the course of so singular a contest. They make 
out, however, two main points : that Washington, while of a tempera- 
ment, on great occasions, the most deliberate and reasonable, always 
considered the cause of America as the cause of freedom and right ; 
secondly, that his difficulties were such as no general was ever before 
able to contend with, for so long a continuance. These letters, in- 
deed, stop short at the end of 1778 ; but these points would only 
have been more fully displayed, if they had been continued to the 
end of the contest. 

Washington took the command immediately after the affair at Bun- 
ker's Hill, in 1775. Want of gunpowder was the first difficulty, in 
June, 1775 ; the defence of lines so extensive is the second ; the 
want of money, engineers, &c., &c., immediately follows; and no de- 
pendence, the general officers told him, could be put on the militia 
for a continuance in camp, or regularity and discipline during the 
short time they might stay. " In the mean time," says he (July, 
1775), " there are materials for a good army, a great number of 
able-bodied men, active, zealous in the cause, and of unquestionable 
courage." In August, 1775, he observes, — "The enemy, finding 
us so well prepared, mean to bombard us out of our present line of 
defence, or are waiting in expectation that the colonies must sink 

* These spurious letters, comprising five to Mr. Lund Washington, one to John 
Parke Custis, Esq., and one only to ^Irs. Washington, were first published in London, 
in 1777, in a small pamphlet entitled "Letters from General Washington to Several 
of his Friends in the Year 1776." "The object of the fabricator," says Mr. Sparks, 
"vras to disjjarage General Washington, and create distrust in the minds of his coun- 
trymen, by showing, from his private sentiments unguardedly expressed to his friends, 
that he was acting a hypocritical part, being in reality opposed to the war." In 1796, 
these letters were rejmblished at New York, for factious purposes, and in the course 
of the same year in London also, in a small octavo volume, with a number of genuine 
letters, and other papers, hearing various dates, from 1777 to 1783, under the title of 
■■ Epistles Domestic, Confidential, and OtHcial, from General Wasliington." This work 
is doubtless the one alluded to in the text, yet not the one from wliich the extracts that 
follow are taken ; the latter being a collection in two volumes, embracing the correspond- 
ence from June, 177.5, to December, 1778, compiled from the original papers in the 
office of the Secretary of State in Philadelphia, and first published in London, in 1 795, 
under tlic title of " Official Letters to the Honorable American Congress, written, dur- 
ing the War between the United Colonies and Great Britain, by his Excellency, George 
Washington." — See Sparks's Writings of Washinerton, Vol. v. p. 379, and Vol. xi. 
pp. 183-185, 192-194; also, Official Letters, Vol. h, Advertisement. — N. 
78 ZZ* 



618 LECTURE XXXIV. 

under the weight of the expense, or the prospect of a winter cam- 
paign so discourage our troops as to break up our army," These 
were, no doubt, the expectations of the British commanders. " Our 
situation," he says, " in the article of powder, is much more alarm- 
ing than I had the most distant idea of, — not more than nine rounds 
a man." In September, 1775, he says to Congress, — " My situa- 
tion is inexpressibly distressing, — to see the winter fast approach- 
ing upon a naked army, the time of their service within a few weeks 
of expiring, and no provision yet made for such important events. 
Added to these, the military chest is totally exhausted; the pay- 
master has not a single dollar in hand ; the commissary-general as- 
sures me he has strained his credit, for the subsistence of the army, 
to the utmost ; the quartermaster-general is precisely in the same 
situation ; and the greater part of the troops are in a state not far 
from mutiny, upon the deduction from their stated allowance : if the 
evil is not immediately remedied, and more punctuality observed in 
future, the army must absolutely break up," &c., &c. 

In October, 1775, he says, — " Gage is recalled ; five regiments 
and a thousand marines are ordered out ; no prospect of accommoda- 
tion, but the ministry determined to push the war to the utmost." 
In November, 1775, he says, — " As there is every appearance that 
this contest will not be soon decided, would it not be eligible to raise 
two battahons of marines in New York, &c. ?" At the end of No- 
vember, 1775, he says, — " Our situation is truly alarming ; and of 
this General Howe is well apprised : it being the common topic of 
conversation when the people left Boston last Friday. I am making 
the best disposition I can for our defence, having thrown up several 
redoubts," &c. 

Howe was all this time at Boston and Bunker's Hill ; Washington 
not far distant, in an intrenched camp at Cambridge. In December, 
1775, he says, — " Last Friday the major part of the Connecticut 
troops were going away with their arms and ammunition ; we have, 
however, by threats, persuasion, and the activity of the people of the 
country, who sent back many of them that had set out, prevailed 
upon the most part to stay." In January, 1776, he observes to 
Congress, — " It is not in the pages of history, perhaps, to furnish a 
case like ours : to maintain a post, within musket^shot of the enemy, 
for six months together, without powder, and at the same time to dis- 
band one army and recruit another, within that distance of twenty- 
odd British regiments, is more, probably, than ever was attempted." 
His letter of January 14, 1776, opens thus : — "I am exceedingly 
sorry that I am under the necessity of applying to you, and calling 
the attention of Congress to the state of our arms, which is truly 
alarming, &c., &c. Supplies are wanting, and the enlisting goes on 
so very slow, that it almost seems at an end." His letter of Febru- 
ary 9, 1776, was intended to show Congress the difference that must 



AMERICAN WAR. 619 

ever exist between regular soldiers and all sorts of militia, or men 
who enlist for a short time, and may leave the army when in presence 
of the enemy. His observations, drawn from his own experience, 
must be considered as decisive. But the jealousy which Congress 
entertained of a regular army was so great, that "Washington is 
obliged to begin and conclude his letter with a sort of apology for 
recommending it so earnestly to their adoption. 

Independence was declared in July, 1776 ; it is therefore impor- 
tant to remark an expression five months before, in February. " I 
am entirely of your opinion," says he, " that, should an accommoda- 
tion take place, the terms will be severe or favorable in proportion to 
our ability to resist, and that we ought to be on a respectable footing 
to receive their armaments in the spring." The possibility of concili- 
ation seems here taken for granted ; that is, independence was not 
then the idea of Washington, five months before the declaration. 

At this very moment (February, 1776) he declares there were 
near two thousand men without firelocks. His letters continue to 
speak of embarrassments for want of proper supplies through the 
months that follow ; but on the 10th of July, immediately after the 
declaration of independence, he writes thus : — "I trust the late de- 
cisive part Congress have taken is calculated for our happiness, and 
will secure us that freedom and those privileges which have been and 
are refused us, contrary to the voice of nature and the British con- 
stitution. Agreeably to the request of Congress, I caused the Decla- 
ration to be proclaimed before all the army, and the measure seem- 
ed to have their most hearty assent ; the expressions and behaviour 
both of officers and men testifying their warmest approbation of it." 
The conclusion of his letter is more animated than usual ; calmness, 
that useful, but disagreeable quality, was the very essence of his char- 
acter, was so on all public occasions at least : — " The intelligence 
we have is, that the British look for Admiral Howe's arrival every 
day, with his fleet and a large reinforcement ; are in high spirits, 
and talk confidently of success, and carrying all before them, when 
he comes. I trust, through Divine favor, and our own exertions, 
they will be disappointed in their views, and at all events any 
advantages they may gain will cost them very dear. If our troops 
will behave well, — which I hope will be the case, having every 
thing to contend for that freemen hold dear, — they will have to wade 
througli much blood and slaughter, before they can carry any part of 
our works, if they carry them at all, and at best be in possession of 
a melancholy and mournful victory. May the sacredness of our cause 
inspire our soldiery with sentiments of heroism, and lead them to the 
performance of the noblest exploits!" 

In August, 1776, before the attack of Howe on Long Island and 
New York, he considers himself as having ten thousand five hundred 
men fit for duty, sick three thousand, on command about as many 



620 LECTURE XXXIV. 

more, — in all, about seventeen thousand. " These things," he says, 
" are melancholy. So far as I can judge from the professions and ap- 
parent disposition of my troops, I shall have their support ; the superi- 
ority of the enemy and the expected attack do not seem to have de- 
pressed their spirits." After the victories of Howe, September 2d, 
he writes, — " Our situation is truly distressing. The militia are 
dismayed, intractable, and impatient to return ; great numbers of 
them have gone off, in some instances almost by whole regiments. 
With the deepest concern I am obliged to confess my want of confi- 
dence in the generality of the troops. I have more than once," he 
continues, " taken the liberty of mentioning to Congress, that no de- 
pendence could be put in a militia. I am persuaded that our liberties 
must of necessity be greatly hazarded, if not entirely lost, if their de- 
fence is left to any but a permanent standing army, — I mean, one 
to exist during the war." 

His letter of 8th September, 1776, is very important, and contains 
his ideas on the late and future operations of the war, but it is too 
long to quote. " We should on all occasions," says he, " avoid a 
general action, nor put any thing to the risk, unless compelled by a 
necessity into which we ought never to be drawn. The war should 
be defensive, a war of posts. I have never spared the spade and 
pickaxe." He never did afterwards spare them. The affair at Bun- 
ker's Hill had shown what it was to fight from behind intrenchments. 
The country gave opportunities for this species of defence, and the 
war was thus protracted by Washington till the irregular and un- 
disciplined troops of America became in time fit to be opposed, in 
pitched battles, if necessary, to the regular troops of England and 
Germany. 

But Washington had no proper powers intrusted to him by the 
Congress. These jealous republicans hazarded their cause to the 
utmost, rather than give their general the means of saving them from 
their enemies. This sort of impracticable adherence to a principle is 
always the characteristic of democratic men and democratic bodies. 
It is sometimes their praise, but more often their fault. The respect- 
ful patience Avith which Washington waited for the influence of his 
representations on his constitutional rulers exceeds all description, 
and certainly far exceeds the patience of those who read his letters. 
The lowest point of depression was at this moment, December, 1776. 
But the enterprise at Trenton, where he surprised a part of the 
British army, and which was the great achievement of the military 
life of Washington, then followed, — the achievement that inspired 
with some hope the despairing friends and armies of America, and 
which enabled him to maintain a show of regular resistance to the 
superior forces of the British commanders. His own account of this 
affair, December 27th, is singularly modest and concise. 

The year 1777 opens with a letter in which he evidently expects 



AMERICAN WAR. 621 

very favorable effects from the ill conduct of the British in the Jer- 
seys. " If what the people of Jersey have suffered does not rouse 
their resentment, they must not possess the common feelings of hu- 
manity. To oppression, ravage, and a deprivation of property, they 
have had the more mortifying circumstance of insult added. We 
keep up appearances," says he, " before an enemy double to us in 
numbers. Our situation is delicate and truly critical, for want of a 
sufficient force to oppose the enemy." 

Now it was about this time, and in this situation of things, that the 
Congress expressed to him their wishes (such was their reasonable- 
ness) that " he would confine the enemy within their present quar- 
ters, prevent their getting supplies from the country, and totally sub- 
due tliem before they were reinforced." They do not exactly desire 
him to step over to London, and send them Lord North and Lord 
George Germain in irons, but I really have quoted the very terms in 
which they expressed themselves.* The good-temper of Washington 
is astonishing. " The inclosed return," says he, " comprehends the 
whole force I have in Jersey ; it is but a handful, and bears no pro- 
portion, on the scale of numbers, to that of the enemy; added to this, 
the major part is made up of militia. The most sanguine in specula- 
tion," says he, " cannot deem it more than adequate to the least 
valuable purposes of war." 

These notices, drawn from different letters (they proceed in the 
same strain to the end), will give you some idea of the work before 
us. The letters, you will see, however cold and formal, may serve 
to afford you a proper notion of the contest, and more particularly of 
the merit of Washington. You will scarcely be able regularly to 
read them, though you will easily perceive that they must be read 
very patiently by any historian of these times, and that, if particular 

* Tlie terms in which Washington aUmles to this matter arc somewhat amhiguous, 

— suthciently so, it must be acknowleflged, to atTord an opening for the amusing light 
in which it is here presented ; liut a reference to the Journals of Congress places it in 
quite a different aspect. It apjiears to liavc been the design to strike a vigorous, and, 
if possil)lc, a decisive, blow at the enemy, in anticipation of the arrival of reinforce- 
ments from England. In pursuance of "this design, Congress, on the 24th of Febru- 
ary, 1777. jKVSsed a resolution requiring the new recruits to join the army under Wash- 
ingtoa immediately, and calling out the militia of New Jersey and rennsylvania, 

— "in order," says the preambic. "farther to strengthen the hands of the general"'; 
'•it being the earnest desire of Congress," as is added in conclusion, "to make the 
army under the immediate command of General Washington sufficiently strong, not 
only to curb and confine the enemy within their present quarters, and prevent them 
from drawing su]iport of any kind from the country, but, by the Divine blessing, totally 
to subline them before tliey can be reinforced." In commenting upon this resolution, 
in a letter of the 14th of Alarch following, Washington observes, — " Could I accom- 
l)lisli the important objects so eagerly wished by Congress, — 'confining the enemy 
within their present quarters, preventing their getting supplies from the country, and 
totally subduing them before they are reinforced," — I should be happy indeed." Pro- 
fessor Smytli's construction of this language is, perhaps, natural enough, apart from 
the consideration, which at once suggests itself, of the intrinsic improbability that any 
deliberative bo<ly of sane men could liave intended any thing so absurd as he supposes ; 
but it is clear that there is nothing in the resolution itself to support it. — N. 



622 LECTURE XXXIV. 

points are to be settled, they must be referred to. You -will remem- 
ber that I have ah'eady announced to you that these letters may 
supply many more conclusions than such as relate to the merit of 
General Washington. 

But there is another work which you may more readily meet with, 
— the Life of Washington, by Marshall. The work is, indeed, chiefly 
compiled from Washington's correspondence, and a life of Washington 
is of course a history of the American war. To the first volume of 
this work I have referred you on former occasions. Our present sub- 
ject begins to be treated in the second volume ; it is continued through 
the next three quartos, but they are not large or closely printed ; 
and as much of the military part may be looked at rather than read, 
they will not occupy you too long. Of the fifth volume I shall speak 
hereafter. 

The conclusions which you will draw from the pages of Marshall 
you will find much the same as those that you would derive from 
Ramsay. The more appropriate value of the work consists in the 
description of the distresses of Washington. You may here, too, gain 
some idea of the views and counsels of Washington and the Congress 
from time to time ; and you may compare them with those of the 
British generals and statesmen to be found in other publications. I 
do not detain you with these considerations, because you will read this 
work of Marshall more readily than the former work, the Letters of 
Washington. You will have the same instruction afforded you in a 
less disagreeable manner. 

We will now advert to the History of Stedman. This is the work 
where may be found the most distinct materials for the censure of Sir 
William Howe. Stedman evidently thought that the cause was lost 
by his want of capacity. Stedman served under Howe, Clinton, and 
CornwalHs ; and when the conduct of the war is to be estimated, he 
must be consulted. But I consider him of no authority on any sub- 
ject which is not connected with his profession. His account is mere- 
ly that of a sensible, well-meaning, and probably very good officer. 
He forms no views, is no statesman, and his work should be considered 
only as offering us a very good specimen of what were probably the 
opinions and feelings of intelligent officers serving in the British army 
at the time. But what intelligent officers thought is by no means an 
uninteresting part of the subject, and I therefore recommend his book. 
Enter into the military details as much or as little as you please, but 
gather up his sentiments and opinions whenever you can find them, 
considering them as the objects of your speculation, not of your con- 
fidence. 

After these few remarks, I will not occupy your time with any 
further comments on this particular history. I had prepared many ; 
but if your mind has been properly enlarged by the writings I have 
recommended, more particularly the speeches of Mr. Burke, you will 



AMERICAN WAR. 623 

be sufficiently secure from the misapprehensions, confined views, and 
arbitrary notions, which were entertained by Stedman, — I doubt not, 
a very respectable officer, but it is quite out of the question to sup- 
pose him fit to direct your judgments on such topics as he often de- 
cides upon. 

But as a man like Stedman, connected with the military profession, 
was very naturally incUned rather to depend on the exertions of 
authority, and to see the propriety of its claims, than to trust to the 
distant effects of mild government, he is naturally referred to by 
authors and reasoners like Adolphus, who, without the excuse of the 
same profession, have the same arbitrary inclinations and opinions. 
There are some facts and anecdotes given by Stedman not to be 
found in others. He has the appearance, too, of being honest, and 
of speaking freely what he thought. Stedman must be consulted, in 
his eighth chapter more particularly, by those who would judge of 
the failure of our arms in the dispute. 

It was during the campaign of 1776, and at the close of it, when 
it was for Sir William Howe to have struck some important blow. 
The enemy were unable to stand before the British troops in the 
field ; the American army had diminished from thirty thousand almost 
to three thousand ; Washington was scarcely able to maintain the ap- 
pearance of a regular force : and Stedman insists that the general 
panic had extended itself from the military to all the civil depart- 
ments ; the Congress had retired into Maryland ; Philadelphia only 
waited the arrival of the British army to submit to the mother coun- 
try ; other parts would have done the same ; New York was already 
in Howe's possession. These advantages were neglected, and other 
material errors, which he states, were in his opinion committed. I 
cannot enter into the details in this and in other parts of his work. 
You will consider also his twentieth chapter, where he finds another 
opportunity of renewing his censures when the general takes leave of 
his command. 

The blame that belonged to the failure of our arms in America be- 
came, of course, a subject of dispute between the general and the 
secretary of war, Lord George Germain. 

In this question is involved,' as I have already intimated, more than 
the character of either ; and they who examine it will be continually 
led away to the more important question of the original probability 
of conquering America by any force which it was competent for this 
country to have sent across the Atlantic. On this account, and on 
account of many curious particulars which appeared in the course of 
the examination, I would recommend it to you to consult the Debates. 
The labor will not be great. You will find General Howe, on his re- 
turn, declaring in the House that he had resigned his command (I 
quote his words) '• in consequence of a total disregard to his opinions, 
and to his recommendations of meritorious officers ; that the war had 



624 LECTURE XXXIV. 

not been left to his management, and jet when he applied for instruc- 
tions, he frequently could not get them." Lord George Germain ex- 
pressed some surprise at so unexpected an attack ; said his recom- 
mendations had been complied with, except in three instances, which 
he explained ; declared that he had always seconded the plans of the 
general ; and that, if the general had not instructions when he called 
for them, it was because many things depended on unforeseen circum- 
stances, and it was impossible to send letters every day across the 
Atlantic ; that the general must necessarily, in many respects, be left 
to his own discretion. 

Perhaps these few words that I have quoted from these two 
speeches are sufficient to decide, without any further inquiry, the 
merits both of the general and of the secretary. If the general, on 
the one hand, supposed, that, unless he was left entirely to his own 
discretion, he could not overpower Washington and the Congress, — 
or if, on the other hand, the secretary imagined, that, while sitting 
at Whitehall, he had the slightest chance of conquering the continent 
of America, or even of materially assisting those whom he sent for 
the purpose, it was evident at once, that neither the general nor the 
secretary had genius enough to execute, or even properly to compre- 
hend, the enterprise which was before them. 

An inquiry took place to satisfy General Howe, and not Lord 
George Germain. The general entered on his defence, and insisted 
that the papers before the House made out for him four points : first, 
that he supplied the ministry, from time to time, with proper infor- 
mation ; secondly, that he gave his own opinions on what was practi- 
cable with the force on the spot, and with such succours as he ex- 
pected ; thirdly, that his plans were carried into execution with as 
little deviation as could have been expected ; and, fourthly, that he 
never flattered the ministry with improper hopes of seeing the war 
terminated in any one campaign, with the force at any one time 
under his command. The general then proceeded to his defence ; 
and the student, as he reads it, will find himself silenced, if not satis- 
fied, and that to a much greater degree than he could have expected. 
The great question is, why the general did not attempt some decisive 
enterprise at the close of the campaign of 177G, about the time of 
the surprise at Trenton. The general seems always to have respect- 
ed his enemy more than the student might think necessary ; but it 
would be rather presumptuous to judge for him on this point. In- 
stead of immediately making any important eflFort, he wrote for a re- 
inforcement of fifteen thousand men and a battalion of artillery. The 
force could not be sent, and this opportunity — Avhich was, in fact, a 
striking one — was lost. 

You will see the defence of Lord George Germain at page 391,* 

* Parliamentary Register ; or Histon' of the Proceedings and Debates of the House 
of Commons, &c. (London, 1779), Vol.'xii. pp. 391-394. — N. 



AMERICAN WAR. 625 

the main jwint of -whicli is, that he admitted, that, " after the aflfair 
at White Plains [in 1776], when the rebel army was all one as anni- 
hilated, the general demanded a large reinforcement, fifteen or twenty 
thousand men ; but that for his part, against an enemy flying on every 
side, scarcely a battalion in any one body, and at the head of a vic- 
torious, Avell-disciplincd army, combined with the information of per- 
sons Avell informed on the spot, and on his own judgment, he thought 
then, and now, that such a requisition on the part of the commander- 
in-chief ought not to be complied with." 

Now here appears to me to turn the main hinge of the question be- 
tween the secretary and the general, and the answer of the secretary 
seems not sufficient. It was for the general to judge of the quantity 
of force, not for him ; and the better answer would have been, not 
that he would not, but that he could not, comply with the requisition, 
and this answer would probably have been the real truth. To have 
said this, however, would have been to suggest to the opposition the 
incompetence of Great Britain to make a sufficient effort to conquer 
America at all, and the original folly of attempting it ; and this, 
therefore, could not be said. 

The twelfth * volume of Debates opens with the examination of 
Lord Cornwallis and Sir Charles Grey. They are very decided in 
their testimony in favor of Sir ^Vllliam. The evidence of both goes 
to show the impracticability of the country ; and of Sir Charles, to 
prove the inadequacy of the force which was sent. But he joined 
late, — not till June, 1777. 

Lord George Germain then brings up his evidences. General Robert- 
son and Mr. Galloway. Much is made to depend on the evidence 
of Galloway by the historian Adolphus ; but you will see such con- 
versation taking place in the House of Commons, with respect to 
GalloAvay's memory, situation, and other particulars, that you will 
receive with great hesitation any representations founded on his 
opinions. 

At last you will find that the inquiry suddenly stops short. The 
general is absent, and the committee breaks up and expires. The 
general says, the next day, that his absence was no proper reason 
why it should do so. The txyo brothers ask the secretary, whether, 
after having heard the evidence, he has any accusation to make. 
lie is silent, and the whole business is at an end ; not very intellioi- 
bly, or much to the credit of any of the parties concerned, — the 
general, the secretary, or the House. 

On the whole, the conclusion seems to be, that success could not 
have been accomplished, unless Howe had been more enterprising or 
England more powerful ; that America was a country so impracticable 
and so distant, that, considering the spirit of resistance which had 

* The thirteenth (Pari. Resr.). pp. 1 -32. — N. 
79 ^ ■ 3 A 



626 LECTURE XXXIV. 

been shown, no reasonable hope could be entertained of ultimately 
controlling the inhabitants by force of arms. 

Marshall, in his Life of Washington, probably speaks the general 
opinion of intelligent men in America. He conceives that Sir 
WiUiam Howe might, on some occasions, have acted more efficiently, 
but, in doing so, that he would have risked much. Victories like 
that of Bunker's Hill, or that claimed by Burgoyne in September, 
1777, would have ruined the royal cause. Howe's system he con- 
ceives to have been, to put nothing to hazard, and to be very careful 
of his troops. " Howe probably supposed," he says, " that the ex- 
treme difficulties under which America labored, the depreciation of 
the paper money, the annual dispersion of her army by the expira- 
tion of the terms of their enlistment, the privations to which every 
class of society had to submit, would of themselves create a general 
disposition to return to the ancient state of things, if the operation 
of these causes should not be counteracted by brilliant successes ob- 
tained over the British by Washington." Now it is very possible 
that Howe did reason in this manner ; but the train of reasoning 
would have been more solid, if it had concluded in a manner exactly 
opposite : for instance, that these causes would not create a general 
disposition in the Americans to return to the ancient state of things, 
unless he could assist their operation by obtaining some brilliant suc- 
cesses over Washington. 

There is a summary account given in the twenty-second volume of 
the Annual Register : it is full of matter and very concise, though 
too long to be quoted here. The reader is left to infer, that the force 
was inadequate, and the ministers were told so ; that the country, on 
the whole, was too hostile and too impracticable, to leave it possi- 
ble for the army to carry on its operations at any distance from the 
fleet ; that, according to the rules of military prudence, there was no 
enterprise, from time to time, that appeared hkely to be attended 
with success ; that so far the fault is clearly with the ministry : that, 
on the other hand, in the midst of all these difficulties, the general 
should have seen the necessity of striking some blow immediately, 
and if he did not choose to risk it, should have resigned his com- 
mand. 

I must now repeat, that I have adverted to this subject on the 
merits of General Howe, not only to furnish some general answer to 
one of the first questions which the student will naturally ask, but to 
remind him, that, while he is gratifying his curiosity, he must neces- 
sarily place before his view — and that he ought to observe them — 
two of the most important points connected with the American dis- 
pute : whether, for instance, the original idea of conquering America 
by force was ever reasonable on our part ; and again, whether the 
resolution of the principal men of America at all events to hazard 
rebellion against the mother country was properly justified at the 



AMERICAN WAR. 627 

time by their probable means of resistance. Finally, it is in this 
manner that the student can best be taught, in some degree, to com- 
prehend the extraordinary merit of Washington. 



LECTURE XXXV 



AMERICAN WAR. 



Hitherto I have alluded chiefly to the origin of this unhappy civil 
war ; the causes of which, as they operated on each side of the At- 
lantic, you will even now be able, in a general manner, to estimate. 
Of these general causes, too many of those that operated with us, 
those that I have enumerated, for instance, may, I think, be held up 
to the censure and avoidance of posterity. The more they are 
analyzed, the less can they be respected ; and it was very fit, and 
even desirable, that the haughty and selfish sentiments, the unworthy 
opinions, by which the people of Great Britain and their rulers were 
led astray, should not only be resisted, but successfully resisted. 

And yet it is not so easy to come to a decision on the American 
part of the case. The colonies were from the first connected with 
the British Empire. They had grown up, under its influence, to un- 
exampled strength and prosperity. A principle was, no doubt, on a 
sudden brought forward by the British minister, which might have 
been carried to an extent, and, if unresisted, would probably have 
been carried to an extent, materially injurious to their liberties ; but 
it had not been carried to any such extent when acts of fury and out- 
rage were committed in the province of Massachusetts ; and we assent 
to, rather than enter into, the reasonings of the Americans. AVe are 
surprised and struck with the fervor of their resistance, rather than 
sympathize with it ; certainly we do not feel the glow of indignation 
against the mother country which, on otlier occasions, of Switzerland 
and the Low Countries, for instance, we have felt against the superior 
state. That the British nation was wrong, and deserved to be se- 
verely punished, must be allowed ; but to lose half its empire, and to 
have America and Europe rejoicing in its humiUation and misfortunes, 
as in the fall of tyranny and oppression, is more than a speculator on 
human affairs, in this country at least, can be well reconciled to. 
The punishment seems disproportioned to the fault ; — the fiiult, 
however, must not be denied. It was one totally unworthy of the 
English people, the very essence of whose constitution, its safeguard, 



628 LECTURE XXXV. 

its characteristic boast, its principle from the eariiest times, the very 
object of all its virtuous struggles, and for which its patriots had died 
on the scaffold and in the field, was this very principle of representa- 
tive taxation. 

I must now, therefore, recall to your minds my observation, that 
the causes which led to the American war were not all of them, in 
their feehng and principle, discreditable to our country. For in- 
stance, a particular notion of pohtical right had a great effect in mis- 
leading our ministers and people, and hurrying them into measures 
of violence and coercion. It was of the following nature : all general 
principles of legislation and national law seem to lead to the conclu- 
sion, that the sovereignty must remain with the parent state, and that 
the power of taxation is involved in the idea of sovereignty. Even 
Burke seems to have been of this opinion, and the Rockingham part 
of the Whigs. But this was a point much contested at the time. 
The reverse was loudly insisted upon by Lord Chatham and his 
division of the Whigs : that the general powers of sovereignty were 
one thing, and the particular power of taxation another, — that this 
species of sovereignty, taxation, could not be exercised without repre- 
sentation. 

And thus much must, at least, be conceded to Lord Chatham, — 
that, in practice, this distinction had always existed in the European 
governments, derived from the Barbarian conquerors of the Roman 
Empire. This power of taxation was always supposed to be the 
proper prerogative of the people, or of the great assembhes that 
were quite distinct from the wearer of the crown. The granting or 
refusing of supplies was always considered as a matter of grace and 
favor to the sovereign, — not of duty ; and as something with which 
they were enabled to come, if I may so speak, into the market with 
their rulers, and truck and barter for privileges and immunities. 
But however this original point, of the right of taxation being includ- 
ed in sovereignty, be determined ; whether it be admitted, or not, in 
the abstract and elementary theory of government, which is the first 
question ; and whether it be admitted, or not, in any ideas we can 
form of our feudal governments of Europe, which is the second ques- 
tion ; still, the same point assumed a very different appearance, and 
became another and a third question, when this sovereign right of 
taxation was to be practically applied to colonies, situated as were 
those of America, and by a mother country, enjoying the kind of 
free constitution which Great Britain at the time enjoyed. The 
question of taxation, under these circumstances, became materially 
and fundamentally altered ; and for the rulers and people of Great 
Britain to set up a right, one, if it existed at all, certainly of a very 
general and abstract kind, and even to carry it into practical effect, 
without the slightest accommodation to the feelings of freemen and 
the descendants of freemen, — without offering the slightest pohtical 



AMERICAN WAR. 629 

contrivance, the slightest form of representation, by which the prop- 
erty of the Americans could be rendered as secure as is the property 
of the inhabitants of Great Britain, — ^Yithout the shghtest attempt 
to avail themselves of the colonial governments existing in America 
at the time ; for the rulers and people of Great Britain to be so total- 
ly deaf and insensible to all the reasonings and feelings which had 
dignified the conduct of their ancestors from the earliest period, and 
which at that moment continued to dignify their own, — was to show 
a want of genuine sympathy with the first principles of the Enghsh 
constitution, and the first principles of all relative justice, — was to 
show such carelessness of the happiness and prosperity of others, and 
such haughty contempt and disregard of the most obvious suggestions 
of policy and expediency, that it is not at all to be lamented that the 
ministers and people of this country should fail in their scheme of un- 
conditionally taxing America, should be disgraced and defeated in 
any such unworthy enterprise. And it is ardently to be hoped, that 
all nations, and all rulers of nations, and all bodies of men, and all 
individuals, should eternally fail and be discomfited, and, according 
to the measure of their offences, be stigmatized and made to suffer, 
whenever they show this kind of selfish or unenlightened hostility to 
such great principles as I have alluded to, — the principles of civil 
freedom, of relative justice, and of mild government. 

After having thus considered the original grounds of the war, when 
I came in the last lecture to advert to the conduct of the war, I point- 
ed out to you the most curious and difficult question wliich the whole 
contest affords : whether the American leaders did not hurry into posi- 
tive rebellion before they had sufficient grounds to suppose they could 
resist what was then the greatest empire on earth. 

The fact seems to have been, that resistance ripened gradually and 
insensibly into rebellion. The leaders had incurred the penalties of 
treason before they could well have asked themselves to what lengths 
they were prepared to go. They always debated with closed doors, 
so that what were their exact views, and the progress of their opinions, 
cannot now be kno^^oi. But the strange, incoherent manner in which 
both they and the people of America seemed to have supposed that 
the dispute would be terminated each year, in the course of that year, 
or the next, is very striking, and shows how little they were aware 
of the magnitude of the enterprise in which they had engaged. This 
is true in general ; but particular individuals were more wise. In- 
stances certainly did occur, and some are on record, of men who were 
aware how perilous was the course which, at the opening of the dis- 
pute, the patriots were pursuing. " We are not to hope," said Mr. 
Quincy, to the meeting assembled at Boston in 1774, " that we shall 
end this controversy without the sharpest, sharpest conflicts. We 
are not to flatter ourselves, that popular resolves, popular harangues, 
popular acclamations, and popular vapor will vanquish our foes. Let 

3a* 



630 LECTURE XXXV. 

us weigh and consider, before we advance to tliose measures which 
must bring on the most trying and terrible struggle this country ever 
saw." 

But on the whole, the general enthusiasm that was excited by this 
single principle, the fundamental principle of the American contro- 
versy, that the Parliament of Great Britain had no right to tax them, 
is quite unexampled in history ; and that men should act on the fore- 
sight and expectation of events just as if the events were present, 
and should endure as much to avoid the approach of oppressive tax- 
gatherers as if they were already in their houses, is a perfect phe- 
nomenon in the records of the world, and a very curious specimen of 
that reasoning, sagacious, spirited, determined attachment to the prin- 
ciples of civil liberty which so honorably distinguished the ancestors 
of these Americans, the very singular men who flourished in the times 
of Charles the First, and who, whatever may be their faults, did cer- 
tainly rescue from imminent danger the civil liberties of these islands. 

I have hitherto, through all these lectures on the subject of the 
American dispute, been obhged to direct your attention to the ill 
effects of harsh government, to the unfortunate nature of high and 
arbitrary notions, when the interests of mankind are concerned, — 
their civil liberties at home, — their sense of relative justice to other 
states abroad : but the lessons I am now called upon to offer you, 
through this and the ensuing lecture, are of a different kind ; and it 
will now be my business continually to remind you, that, though gov- 
ernment ought not to be harsh, still that government must exist ; and 
that, whatever may be the temptations to which all executive power 
is exposed, still that somewhere or other executive power must be 
found, or there will be no chance for the maintenance of justice and 
right among mankind. 

For as we proceed to consider still further the conduct of the 
American leaders, the principal and I had almost said the only re- 
maining observation I have to make is this : that through the whole 
course of the accounts, as given by the American writers, the reflec- 
tion that is continually presenting itself is the objectionable nature of 
the purely republican form of government ; the total inadequacy of 
all forms strictly democratical for the management of mankind, where 
any management is required, — their management, I mean, accord- 
ing to the proper principles of equity and wisdom. I do not think 
that any sober-minded speculator on government could ever have had 
much doubt on the subject, yet I conceive that any such doubt will be 
entirely at an end with those who peruse the volumes of Marshall, or 
even of Dr. Ramsay ; for we are continually led to remark, through 
every stage of the contest, the want of a proper executive govern- 
ment on the part of the Americans, and the evils that hence ensued ; 
and though the case before us is the case of a country at war, where 
the diiSculties must necessarily be not of an ordinary nature, and the 



AMERICAN WAR. 631 

executive government ought to be particularly strong, still the con- 
clusion is inevitably transferred to a country in a state of peace, so 
strong are the instances everywhere displayed of the impracticable 
nature of the human character, of the entire necessity that exists in 
every community for some controUing, superintending, executive 
power, — some power that shall bind up, and bring into proper ef- 
fect, and reduce to the proper standard of equity and reason, all the 
divided, dispersed, ardent, and often very ill-directed energies of the 
individuals that compose any society of human beings. Freedom 
must be enjoyed, and men must not lose their nature and be driven 
by their keepers like the beasts of the field ; but neither must they be 
so enamoured of self rule as to admit of no paramount directors and 
governors. The public rights and privileges for which they should 
contend are not the power of self rule, nor even the immediate and 
palpable direction of the measures of their government, the great aim 
and boast of purely republican forms ; but the privileges of peaceful 
criticism on their government, the power of subsequent censure, the 
acknowledgment in the rulers of a delegated rather than an original 
authority, and a reference of their measures to the interest of the 
community. These are the points for which they should contend, — 
the points Avhich, as a government is more or less perfect, are more 
or less accomplished and secured. 

I shall proceed, in the remainder of this lecture, to mention some 
particulars which may serve to illustrate the remarks I have now 
made on the necessity of executive government ; drawing them from 
the American historians themselves, Ramsay and Marshall, more 
especially Marshall, who, though supposed to lean to the Federahsts, 
is one of the most respectable of men, and, at all events, a sort of 
representative of Washington. 

An English reader, when he comes to the history of the American 
■war, as given by the American writers, hears of nothing at first but 
fury and resistance to the British ministers, resolutions to defend the 
liberties of America, public meetings, patriotic sacrifices and exer- 
tions of every description ; and yet when Congress is assembled, an 
army collecting, and a general appointed, tliis Congress, army, and 
general, these defenders of their country and representatives of the 
public will, meet wdth nothing but difficulties and distresses ; no sup- 
plies for the troops, no pay for the soldiers and officers, the paper 
money issued for the purpose intolerably depreciated, and at last 
even a mutiny among the troops, and this repeated at different pe- 
riods of the contest. 

But whence could arise all these difficulties ? Why did not the 
Congress lay at once the necessary taxes on the people of America, 
and with the produce of these taxes procure the necessary supplies ? 
— or if they issued paper money, why not with the same produce of 
the taxes keep their paper from being depreciated ? 



632 LECTURE XXXV. 

The fact Avas, that the Congress had it not in their power to tax 
America, and they had no real securities within their reach on which 
to rest their paper. The different governments of the different prov- 
inces of America were all separate and independent of each other ; 
they were all, in truth, separate and independent republics. Con- 
gress was only a delegation from each province or republic, avid Avas 
assembled merely for the purpose of considering the situation, of 
representing the claims, and at last of conducting the resistance of 
the whole continent. But no powers were given to the Congress of 
taxation ; the utmost they could do was to recommend it to the sepa- 
rate provincial legislatures to levy taxes ; they could not levy any taxes 
themselves ; and so preposterous was the jealousy in the mind of the 
Americans of all power, that many years elapsed before any authority 
existed that could legally act for the whole continent. Thus the first 
thing that reason required to be done was the last thing that could 
be admitted ; no proper executive power could be suffered to exist, 
and the fortunes of the contest, and indeed of America after the con- 
test, were put to the most extreme hazard from this very circum- 
stance ; and it is this unreasonableness, and this consequent hazard, 
that become the very lesson which I would now impress upon your 
minds ; for all arose from the want of an executive government. 

The Congress were in possession of no revenue, and had no re- 
source but to emit paper money, which was to depend for its payment 
on the public faith, — on the contributions of the different provinces 
for the liquidation or security of the debt after the termination of the 
dispute. This dispute lasted much longer than was ever expected ; 
new and repeated issues of paper money Avere resorted to ; that the 
paper, therefore, should after a certain time depreciate rapidly, and 
at length become scarcely negotiable at any discount, can be matter 
of no surprise. Washington Avas in the mean time necessitated to get 
his supplies from the legislatures of the different proA'inces in any 
manner he could. Great exertions Avere no doubt made ; but the 
anxieties, the mortifications, the apprehensions he suffered are visible 
in every page of his letters. So early as ITTT, he Avas obliged even 
to take by force Avhat he could not regularly get possession of; at 
another period to try the experiment of receiving in kind and in bulk 
what he had no proper government money to purchase : neither of 
these expedients could possibly ansAver. In the mean time the suffer- 
ings and ])rivations of the soldiers and officers, even so early as the 
winters of 1777 and 1778, Avere most extreme ; famine Avas more than 
once in the camp; and such exertions and privations must have been 
fatal to the cause, if the cause had not appeared to the sufferers a 
struggle for every thing that could be dear to themselves or their 
posterity. 

At no period Avas this distress of the army urged to a higher point 
of exasperation than at the time Avhen success on the part of Great 



AMERICAN WAR. 633 

Britain seemed no longer possible. In 1780, a captain's pay did not, 
from the depreciation of paper, furnish him Avith shoes. It was only 
at a period so late as 1780 that some rehef could be obtained from 
France by Franklin, and it was not till 1781 that a more regular and 
eftcctive loan was at last negotiated at Versailles ; and you will be led 
to suppose, if you read the history, that nothing but this last most 
opportune supply could have saved the American army from destruc- 
tion. Great dependence was placed by the ministers and people of 
Great Britain on the effects that must be produced from this depreci- 
ation of the paper money. x\.t a subsequent period in our late revo- 
lutionary war, great dependence was placed in like manner on the 
fall of assignats in France. In each case the expectations of our 
English cabinets were disappointed. I will digress for a moment on 
this particular point, on account of its importance. 

In all such cases the principle upon which the whole depends 
seems to be this, — whether there is in the country any executive 
government sufficiently strong to convert the produce of the land and 
labor of the community to the purposes of the army. Paper money 
is a species of tax, and a most unfair one, if it depreciates ; for any 
man who touches it loses by it. The question, then, is, whether, if 
it should depreciate materially and at last fail, the popular leaders 
can venture upon more violent expedients, can seize and convert to 
the purposes of the troops whatever is wanted ; which is, in other 
words, a question of the strength of the executive government at the 
time. The expectations, therefore, of the English cabinets were, I 
apprehend, much more reasonable in the case of America than in the 
case of France. 

In the latter (in France), the executive government soon became 
so strong, that life, property, and every thing human was seized upon 
and disposed of without the sUghtest ceremony or mercy. France, 
too, was a part of a continent, not itself a continent. The revolu- 
tionary leaders had it, therefore, always in their power to quarter 
their armies on the countries of their enemies. There was little 
hope, therefore, from the fall of ass/gnats. But in the case of 
America the executive government Avas evidently very weak. Far 
from being able to provide itself, if necessar}', with whatever it want- 
ed, it seemed not able to resort to the most common exercise of the 
powers of all acknowledged governments, the laying on of taxes. 
Their paper issues of money seemed to depend, not on any securities 
prepared for the purpose, but merely on the good pleasure and proper 
faith of the community ; but this was a very frail foundation on which 
to rest the fortunes of a military contest Avith Great Britain. 

In every case, I must repeat (for I must repeat my principle), 

Avhere taxes cannot be laid, or some expedient resorted to of the same 

nature and effect with taxes, it certainly does not seem possible to 

carry on anv system of resistance against invading armies. It is in 

80 



C34 LECTURE XXXV. 

vain to say that the food and clothing exist in the country, if the 
state cannot, by some mode of taxation, or seizure, or confiscation, 
get possession of them, and convert them to the use of the soldier 
who wants them. Certainly the pages of the American historians, 
and the letters of Washington himself, show very plainly how extreme 
is the hazard, how cruel are the difficulties, to which every cause 
must be exposed, when the executive government is too weak, — 
when the leaders of the general emotion are not intrusted with proper 
powers to supply those who fight in the public cause with the proper 
means of fighting, with tents, with clothing, with ammunition, and 
food, — and when such men, in those ebbings of the spirit and fluc- 
tuations of the resolution, to which all men must be exposed who 
have been highly wrought up by their feelings, when such men have 
to compare their own forlorn, desolate, helpless, and unworthy situa- 
tion with all the pride and pomp and circumstance which may in the 
mean time belong to the armies of their enemy. I need not allude 
further to the letters of Washington, to make out to you the extent 
and intolerable nature of these privations and difficulties. The truth 
is, that a considerable portion of the very extraordinary merit of 
Washington, as I have before stated, depends on this very point ; 
and how he could keep his officers and his men in any tolerable state 
of good-humor, or spirits, or discipline, amid the privations and wretch- 
edness they had to suffer, in such a climate as that of America, — 
how he could maintain even the appearance of an army before an 
army so accommodated and appointed as was that of England, must 
appear perfectly inexplicable to those who consider wiiat the human 
mind is, and what the circumstances were by which not only the cour- 
age of the American soldier, but qualities of the mind and temper far 
more rare than courage, and of more difficult attainment, were tried 
to the utmost, day after day, and year after year. 

Famine, as I have already mentioned, was more than once in the 
camp. Washington saw his best officers throwing up their commis- 
sions ; troops that could not be tempted by the enemy to desert were 
yet in a state of mutiny ; all were suffering and all were complaining. 
If they met the enemy in the field, they were for a long period neces- 
sarily beaten ; if they kept behind their intrenchments, they had no 
comfort or support but the looks of their general, and their conscious- 
ness of the high principles of liberty which ennobled their cause. 
They must, in the mean time, have supposed the Congress totally in- 
attentive to their distresses, totally regardless of those brave men for 
whose wants it was their proper duty to provide. The real difficulties 
of the case, the real impossibilities wliich their legislators were ex- 
pected to accomplish, were not of a nature to be readily explained to 
their understandings, even if their minds had been in a state of tran- 
quillity, much less when the result of the explanation was to show 
them that they were necessarily to be left in a state of nakedness and 
hunger. 



AMERICAN WAR. 635 

But all these difficulties arose, in the instance before us, from the 
want of a proper executive poAver in the state ; for this is the lesson 
to which I must now return, and which you must not forget. There 
was no executive government to levy general taxes and convert the 
produce of the taxes to the proper purpose ; nor was there any ex- 
ecutive government to seize, as in France, on every thing that was 
wanted, nor any neighbouring nations on which the armies could be 
quartered. 

But this want of a proper executive government was to be exhibit- 
ed in a still more striking manner than has yet been alluded to. 
Those meritorious and gallant men who successfully resisted the Brit- 
ish armies v;ere not only paid in a constantly depreciating paper while 
the war lasted, but they were never, even in the event, and after the 
war had ceased, properly paid their arrears ; and the reader has to 
take up and lay down the subject of these arrears again and again, as 
he reads the history of Marshall, to peruse the expostulations of Wash- 
ington to Congress, and then ultimately to see the army break up and 
dissolve, and the general retire to his farm, — to see the poor soldier, 
impatient to revisit his family and friends, dismissed on his furlough 
with only some slight portion of his arrears, dismissed never after to 
return to a state where he could demand his right ; the reader is to 
witness all this till his feelings are wound up to such a pitch of indig- 
nation that he is ready to execrate and devote to eternal abomination 
all the legislators and legislative assemblies, the whole country and 
continent together, where such base, selfish, faithless ingratitude could 
be endured for a moment. It is, however, to be supposed, that no 
such disgrace to the American name could have sulUed the annals of 
the Revolution, if there had existed at the time a proper executive 
power in the general government, or if it had ever existed afterwards, 
at any point of time sufficiently near the termination of the war. 
This is a sort of lesson which, in that abhorrence of all arbitrary rule 
which I trust will ever animate your bosoms, you must by no means 
forget. 

The English documents which relate to this American civil war 
show the unfortunate nature of high principles of government. I 
have stated this part of the instruction to be derived from the dis- 
pute already ; but from the American documents the conclusion is 
the very reverse. I am now, therefore, stating this, as before I did 
the other, and you will draw, I hope, the instruction that is afforded 
by both. 

I could wish that this subject of the paper money of America, and 
the revolutionary debt, should hereafter occupy your reflection ; you 
Avill find materials in Ramsay and Marshall. Ramsay gives an ap- 
pendix on paper money expressly ; but the subject is huddled up too 
rapidly at the end ; and the historian, though he resumes it in his His- 
tory, never does, and from the date of his work never could, give the 



636 LECTURE XXXV. 

entire detail of it, in a complete and satisfactory manner. Marshall is 
more full, but he never properly connects and puts it at once regular- 
ly and thoroughly in the possession of the reader. He has a sort of 
stately, tedious manner, which keeps the mind for a long time in a dis- 
agreeable state of suspense, from -which it is at the last scarcely ever 
reheved. I suspect that both writers were not a httle ashamed of the 
facts that lay before them. 

I consider these points as on the whole so curious, and so fitted to 
employ your thoughts, that I shall dwell a little longer upon them ; 
giving you my facts, as nearly as I can, in the very words, first of 
Ramsay, and afterwards of Marshall. 

The resolution of the Congress to raise an army, in June, 1775, 
was followed by another to emit bills of credit : for their redemption 
they pledged the confederated colonies. More bills were issued in 
November, 1775, all on a supposition that an accommodation would 
take place before the 10th of June, 1776. It was thought, however, 
necessary, in consequence of the contract entered into by Great Brit- 
ain with Germany for sixteen thousand foreign mercenaries, to ex- 
tend the plan of defence, and in February, May, and July, 1776, 
more and more bills were emitted ; so that the first issue swelled 
from two to twenty milHons of dollars. The paper money circulated 
for about eighteen months, and to the extent of twenty miUions, with- 
out depreciation. 

Congress made some eiforts to borrow, and some to recommend 
taxes to the different States of the Union. But, from the impossi- 
bility of procuring a sufiiciency of money, either from loans or taxes, 
the old expedient of further emissions was reiterated ; and the value 
decreased as the quantity increased. 

The depreciation began at different periods in different States, but 
became general about the middle of the year 1777, and progressively 
increased for three or four years. In 1777, the depreciation reached 
two or three for one ; in 1778, five or six for one ; in 1779, twenty- 
seven or twenty-eight for one ; in 1780, fifty or sixty for one, during 
the first four or five months ; afterwards, one hundred and fifty for 
one, and the circulation only partial ; in 1781, several hundreds for 
one, and many would not take the paper at any rate. It is to be ob- 
served all this time, that the paper emissions of the different States, 
not only of Congress, but of the different provincial States, amounted 
also to many millions, and, being mixed with the continental money 
of Congress, added to its depreciation. 

Washington was, after about five years, reduced to the alternative 
of disbanding his troops, or of supplying them with necessaries by 
military force. 

Now I must here remark, though Dr. Ramsay does not, that after 
five yeare the success of the Revolution was become certain. Had it 
been still doubtful, what, in such a situation, Avould have been the fate 
either of the army or the Congress ? But to proceed. 



AMERICAN WAR. 637 

The next expedient was to call upon the States, in lieu of money, 
for determinate quantities of flour and other articles, for the use of 
the army. This was a tax in hind, and found on experiment so in- 
convenient, partial, and expensive, that it was speedily abandoned. 

The remaining expedient was to call in the old paper by taxes, to 
burn it, and then to emit new paper, one of new for twenty of old, 
under new conditions. But the provincial States could not be brought 
to consent to this with sufficient unanimity, nor, indeed, would they 
have assented to any financial measure of a general nature that could 
have been proposed ; and on this account, it appears, that, for want 
of some federal head, or executive power, to force the country to sub- 
mit to the proper rules of equity and reason, and even to the measures 
necessary for the accomplishment of their own wishes, the success of 
their own resistance to Great Britain, a crisis followed (so late as the 
year 1781) which might have been fatal to the cause of the Revolu- 
tion, if relief had not been obtained by the means of France. There 
was no circulating medium either of paper or specie in the neigh- 
bourhood of the American army, a real want of necessaries ensued.* 
The Pennsylvanian line could not, and would not, endure their situa- 
tion, without pay and without provisions. They were in a state of 
mutiny. Yet these men had not ceased to be patriots, though they 
could not stand at their posts till they died oflf by famine. Sir Henry 
Clinton tried every expedient to bring them over to the British army, 
but in vain. Washington and the Congress, luckily for America, being 
more considerate than generals and legislators on such occasions com- 
monly are, adopted mild measures ; the army was not dissolved, and the 
revolt was quieted. But what might at length have been the event 
it is impossible to say. Fortunately, new resources had been opened 
about the time of this crisis, so long wished for by the enemies and 
dreaded by the friends of American independence. A great deal of 
gold and silver was at this time introduced into the American States, 
by a trade with the French and Spanish West India islands, and again 
by the French army in Rhode Island. The king of France furnished 
a subsidy of six millions of livres, and was the security for ten milhons 
more borrowed in the Netherlands. The public finances were put 
under the skilful direction of Mr. Morris, and the public engagements 
were made payable in gold and silver. 

About this time the old continental paper money ceased to have 
any currency ; the money had got out of the hands of the original 
proprietors, and was in the possession of others, who had obtained it, 
it may be supposed, at some very high rate of depreciation. To raise 
taxes to pay this paper money, at its original value, and thus to pre- 

* Ramsay's language is, — "At tliis period of the war, there was little or no circu- 
lating medium, cither in the form of paper or specie, and in the neighbourhood of the 
Amciican army there was a real want of necessary provisions." History of the Ameri- 
can Revolution, Vol. ii. p. 223. — N. 

3b 



638 LECTURE XXXV. 

serve the public faith, was now quite out of the question ; and the ex- 
tinction of it seems to have produced no particular sensation : the ill 
effects produced by the depreciation of this paper money had taken 
place before. To prevent or retard this depreciation, Congress had 
made different efforts from time to time ; they had recommended to 
the States absurd and unjust laws for regulating the prices of labor, 
manufactures, and all sorts of commodities ; for confiscating and sell- 
ing the estates of Tories ; and they very early recommended a law 
for making the paper money a legal tender. These laws were all 
found, of course, to be impracticable ; all but the last, of legal tender, 
which produced, not indeed the effect intended, but that alone which 
it is fitted to produce : it enabled a man who had borrowed a pound 
to pay his debt by paper which, though nominally a pound, was not 
really worth a pound, nor one half, nor one eighth of the money : 
that is, it enabled every existing debtor to cheat his creditor ; and 
those who had to receive annuities, who had money out at interest, 
widows and orphans, for instance, or the aged who had retired from 
business, found themselves reduced to beggary : that is, the very per- 
sons Avho should, of all others, be under the protection of the state, 
the innocent and the defenceless, were ruined by it ; and such are al- 
ways the only effects that can be produced by this measure of a legal 
tender ; existing debtors are enabled to cheat existing creditors, — 
nothing more. 

The concluding paragraphs of the American historian are remark- 
able, and should be a warning to those who tamper with the circulat- 
ing medium of a country. " The evils of depreciation," says he, 
" did not terminate with the war ; they extend to the present hour. 

The iniquity of the laws estranged the minds of many of the 

citizens from the habits and love of justice. The nature of obliga- 
tions was so far changed, that he was reckoned the honest man, who, 

from principle, delayed to pay his debts Truth, honor, and 

justice were swept away by the overflowing deluge of legal iniquity. 

Time and industry have already, in a great degree, repaired 

the losses of lyroperty which the citizens sustained during the war ; 
but both have hitherto failed in effacing the taint which was then com- 
municated to their principles ; nor can its total ablution be expected, 
till a new generation arises, unpractised in the iniquities of their 
fathers." 

I have been quoting from Ramsay. I will now lay before you a 
few sentences from Paine's Letter to the Abbe Raynal, published in 
Philadelphia, in the year 1782. I do so, to show you how necessary 
it is that you should study well the elements of political economy, be- 
fore you approach any subject connected with the national prosperity ; 
you will otherwise be always liable to be deceived by mistaken writers 
or speakers, who produce with confidence the first impressions of the 
mind on these subjects of pohtical economy, which first impressions 



AMERICAN WAR. 639 

are, in this particular science, almost always wrong. Paine is a 
writer as distinguished for the superficial view which he takes of the 
subjects on which he writes, as for the effrontery with which he pro- 
poses and the ability with which he illustrates his opinions. Indeed, 
I know no argument so strong against all the democracy which he 
espouses, as the very success of his own works. I should hope, after 
what I have read to you from Ramsay, and the unhappy consequences 
that you see from his account result to helpless, unoffending individu- 
als from a depreciated currency, that you are not now to be imposed 
upon by the loose, though specious, reasonings of Paine. You will, I 
hope, detect their unfairness and inaccuracy, while I read them. I 
do not den}"- that they are plausible ; this is rather the reason why I 
now produce them, that on this subject you may always be particularly 
circumspect and patient. 

" I know," says Paine, " it must be extremely difficult to make for- 
eigners understand the nature and circumstances of our paper money, 
because there are natives who do not understand it themselves. But 
with us, its fate is now determined ; common consent has consigned it 
to rest, with that kind of regard which the long service of inanimate 
things insensibly obtains from mankind. Every stone in the bridge 
that has carried us over seems to have a claim upon our esteem ; but 
this was a corner-stone, and its usefulness cannot be forgotten 

" The paper money, though issued from Congress under the name 
of dollars, did not come from that body always at that value. Those 
which were issued the first year were equal to gold and silver ; the 
second year, less; the third, still less; and so on, for nearly the space 
of five years ; at the end of which, I imagine that the whole value at 
which Congress might pay aAvay the several emissions, taking them 
together, was about ten or twelve million pounds sterling. Now, as 
it would have taken ten or twelve millions sterling of taxes to carry 
on the war for five years, and as while this money was issuing, and 
likewise depreciating down to nothing, there were none or few valu- 
able taxes paid, consequently the event to the public was the same, 
whether they sunk ten or twelve millions of expended money by d-e- 
preciation, or paid ten or twelve millions by taxation ; for, as they did 
not do both, and chose to do one, the matter, in a general view, was 
indifferent. And therefore Avhat the Abbd supposes," says Paine, 
" to be a debt has now no existence, it having been paid by every- 
body consenting to reduce, at his own expense, from the value of the 
bills continually passing among themselves, a sum ecpial to nearly 
what the expense of the war was for five years 

" It is true," he goes on to say, " that it never was intended, 
neither was it foreseen, that the debt contained in the paper currency 
should sink itself in this manner ; but as, by the voluntary conduct of 
all and of every one, it has arrived at this fate, the debt is paid by 
those who owed it. Perhaps nothing was ever so universally the act 



640 LECTURE XXXV. 

of a country as this. Government had no hand m it. Every man 
depreciated his own money by his own consent ; for such was the ef- 
fect wdiich the raising the nominal value of goods produced. But as 
by such reduction he sustained a loss equal to what he must have 
paid to sink it by taxation, therefore the line of justice is to consider 
his loss by the depreciation as his tax for that time, and not to tax 
him, when the war is over, to make that money good in any other 
person's hands, which became nothing in his own." 

But the miserable effects of the want of an executive government 
sufficiently strong were not here to cease, not to cease with the wrongs 
of the national creditor. The discontents of the soldiers and officers, 
which had in 1781 nearly threatened the ruin of the army of Ameri- 
ca, threatened, two years afterwards, the very ruin of its freedom. 
On the approach of peace, in 1783, Congress, it was feared, possessed 
neither the power nor the inclination to comply with its engagements ; 
and the prospect was very melancholy to those brave men who had 
wasted their fortunes and the prime of their life in unrewarded ser- 
vices. In Congress, the business of the army, it was found, advanc- 
ed slowly when intelligence of peace had arrived. The army were, 
as may be supposed, soured by their past sufferings, their present 
wants, and their gloomy prospects, exasperated by neglect, and in- 
dignant at the injustice shown them ; and in this sullen and ominous 
state of things, they were addressed by an anonymous writer, proba- 
bly some brother soldier who felt his situation, unworthy as it cer- 
tainly was, more strongly than the situation of his country, perilous 
as it immediately must be, if its legislature was to be addressed by 
exasperated men with arms in their hands, at the close of the Revo- 
lution. But the writer, whoever he was, could produce on this occa- 
sion the " thoughts that breathe and words that burn." 

" Yes, my friends," said he, " that suffering courage of yours was 
active once ; it has conducted the United States of America through 
a doubtful and bloody war ; it has placed her in the chair of indepen- 
dency, and peace returns again to bless — whom ? A country will- 
ing to redress your wrongs, cherish your worth, and reward your ser- 
vices ? A country courting your return to private life, with tears of 
gratitude and smiles of admiration, — longing to divide with you that 
independency which your gallantry has given, and those riches which 
your wounds have preserved ? Is this the case ? Or is it rather a 
country that tramples upon your rights, disdains your cries, and in- 
sults your distresses ? Have you not more than once suggested your 
wishes and made known your wants to Congress, — wants and wishes 
which gratitude and policy shoiUd have anticipated, rather than evad- 
ed ? And have you not lately, in the meek language of entreating 
memorials, begged from their justice what you could no longer expect 
from their favor ? How have you been answered ? Let the letter 
which you are called to consider to-morrow make reply. If this, 



AMERICAN WAR. 641 

then, be your treatment while the swords you wear are necessary for 
the defence of America, what have you to expect from peace, Avhen 
your voice shall sink and your strength dissipate by division, — when 
those very swords, the instruments and companions of your glory, shall 
be taken from 3'our sides, and no remaining mark of military distinc- 
tion left but your wants, infirmities, and scars ? Can you, then, con- 
sent to be the only sufferers by this revolution, and, retiring from the 
field, grow old in poverty, wretchedness, and contempt ? Can you 
consent to wade through the vile mire of dependency, and owe the 
miserable remnant of that life to charity, which has hitherto been 
spent in honor ? If you can, go, and carry with you the jest of To- 
ries and the scorn of Whigs, — the ridicule, and what is worse, the 
pity of the world ! Go, starve, and be forgotten ! " 

Fortunately, the commander-in-chief, Washington, was in camp, and 
contrived to pacify tlie brave companions of his glory, even while he 
must have been conscious that every word of complaint was just, and 
while every sentence in this anonymous address must have been a 
dagger to his own upright heart. He entreated them not to take 
any measures which, viewed in the calm light of reason, would lessen 
the dignity and sully the glory they had hitherto maintained. " Let 
me request you," he said, " to rely on the plighted faith of your coun- 
try, and place a full confidence in the purity of the intentions of Con- 
gress ; that, previous to your dissolution as an army, they will cause 
all your accounts to be fairly liquidated, as directed in their resolu- 
tions which were published to you two days ago ; and that they will 
adopt the most effectual measures in their power to render ample 
justice to you for your faithful and meritorious services. And let me 
conjure you, in the name of our common country, as you value your 
own sacred honor, as you respect the rights of humanity, and as you 
regard the military and national character of America, to express 
your utmost horror and detestation of the man who wishes, under any 
specious pretences, to overturn the liberties of our country, and who 
wickedly attempts to open the flood-gates of civil discord and deluge 
our rising empire in blood." 

The officers that had been convened, moved by the entreaties and 
expostulations of their justly beloved and revered commander, resolv- 
ed unanimously, " that the army continued to have an unshaken con- 
fidence in the justice of Congress and their country, and were fully 
convinced that the representatives of America would not disband or 
disperse the army until their accounts were liquidated, the balances ac- 
curately ascertained, and adequate funds established for payment." 

But the representatives of America, from their inability to manage 
tlie different State legislatures of the continent, or to get permanent 
funds placed within their disposal, did disband and disperse the army 
before the accounts were Hquidated, before their balances were ascer- 
tained, or adequate funds estabhshed for their pajTncnt ; that is, the 
81 3b* 



642 LECTURE XXXY. 

people of America, for want of an executive power to control their 
own discordant opinions, jarring interests, and selfish passions, were 
just as insensible as could have been the most unprincipled tyrants 
and despots of the earth to the proper feelings of humanity and the 
most sacred obligations of public faith. 

It was in vain that Congress addressed the different States of the 
American Union. " These debts are to be paid," they said, " in the 
first place, to an ally, who to the exertion of his arms in support of 
our cause has added the succours of his treasure, and who to his 
important loans has added liberal donations [the king of France] ; 
in the next place, to individuals in a foreign country, who were the 
first to give so precious a token of their confidence in our justice. 
Another class of creditors is that illustrious and patriotic band of fel- 
low-citizens whose blood and whose bravery have defended the liber- 
ties of their country ; who have patiently borne, among other dis- 
tresses, the privation of their stipends, whilst the distresses of their 
country disabled it from bestowing them ; and who even now ask for 
no more than such a portion of their dues as will enable them to re- 
tire from the field of victory and glory into the bosom of peace and 
private citizenship, and for such effectual security for the residue of 
their claims as their country is now unquestionably able to provide. 
The remaining class of creditors is composed partly of such of our 
fellow-citizens as originally lent to the pubhc the use of their funds, 
or have since manifested most confidence in their country b}' receiv- 
ing transfers from the lenders, and partly of those whose property 
has been either advanced or assumed for the pubUc service." 

This address was followed by a very able and affecting letter from 
Washington; but all in vain. This was in June, 1783. Neither the 
recommendations of Congress, nor the counsels and entreaties of this 
parent, this protecting genius of his country, received, it seems, from 
the provincial legislatures, the consideration which the public exigence 
demanded, nor did they meet, as it was called, " that universal assent 
which was necessary to give them effect." 

The subject was again taken up in 1786. The revenue system of 
1783 was again solemnly recommended by Congress to the several 
States, and they were implored to avoid the fatal evils which must 
flow from a violation of those principles of justice which it was told 
them, and truly told them, were the only solid basis of the honor and 
prosperity of nations. They were implored in vain ; and Washington 
had been obliged, in a letter to a friend, to confess that America Avas 
descending from the high ground on which she stood into the vale of 
confusion and darkness. 

At length a new government, the federal government, was formed 
at the close of the year 1789,* to act for the whole continent ; to con- 

* It can hardly be necessary to remind the American reader that the Constitution 
of the United States went into operation on the 4th of March, 1789. The statement 



AMERICAN WAR. 643 

trol, on particular occasions and for general purposes, the different 
provincial legislatures. And when this government was once formed 
(a proper image of executive power), resolutions were carried, though 
still with the greatest difficulty, for the funding of the public debt ; that 
is, for providing proper payment for all the creditors of the state, mili- 
tary and civil, foreign and domestic. 

The discussions that took place on the subject, as given by Mar- 
shall, are remarkable. To endeavour to understand them and re- 
flect upon them would be a very useful exercise to any one who hopes 
hereafter to interfere, with advantage to his country, either in the criti- 
cism or the conduct of public affairs. To this discussion I can only 
in this manner allude. I could have wished to enter into it, and <nve 
you some general idea of the difficulties with which the more wise part 
of the American legislators had to struggle ; but I have occupied you 
very long with the general subject already, — indeed, too long, as it will 
be thought by those who do not consider how important in the concerns 
of mankind are the questions which have been more or less connected 
with the observations I have been making : how far the depreciation 
of the paper currency may be fatal to a national cause, when main- 
tained against a foreign or domestic oppressor ; the nature of paper 
money ; the obligations of public faith, pubUc gratitude, national hon- 
or ; how far communities may be trusted with the government of them- 
selves ; the necessity of a strong executive power, lodged somewhere 
or other, in every form of government that is to exhibit any proper ad- 
herence to the principles of reason, justice, and national faith, — in 
every form of government that is to advance the prosperity, secure 
the interests, or even protect the freedom of any civilized society 
amons mankind. 



LECTURE XXXVI. 



AMERICAN WAR. 



I SHALL now proceed to lay before you other particulars which I 
think may serve to illustrate the subject to which I adverted in my 
last lecture, the necessity of executive government. I do so because 
I conceive this to be the great point of instruction that is offered by 

in the text seems to have reference to the complete organization of the new govern- 
ment during the first session of Congress, which terminated Sept. 29, 1789. Marshall's 
Washington, Vol. v. p. 222. — N. 



644 LECTURE XXXYI. 

the history of America, after the first lessons have been given, — 
those that are of a very opposite nature, — those which I have pro- 
posed to you in former lectures : the injustice, I mean, and inexpedi- 
ency of government too authoritative, of rule too arbitrary, such as 
Great Britain certainly was guilty of attempting to enforce upon her 
colonies in the beginning of this memorable contest. 

Congress was at first only a committee, as I have already noted, — 
an assembly of men delegated from the different States of the Ameri- 
can Union. They could only recommend whatever measures they 
thought expedient ; they could enforce none. 

For some time these recommendations were received as laws ; but 
at length you will see, as you read the history (you will have collect- 
ed even from the notices I have been able already to afford 3'"0u), 
how miserable were the effects produced by the want of all proper 
executive power in the government. 

At last a sort of confederation was agreed upon, and the Congress 
was avowedly considered as the head of the whole Union, acting for 
and representing all the different States of the continent. This con- 
federation may be called the second stage of the revolutionary gov- 
ernment of America. 

But still no proper executive power was given even to this confed- 
eration, and nothing could be more unfavorable to the best interests of 
the country than to leave the confederated government so weak in ex- 
ecutive power, and, in fact, thus to set up an assembly to act the part 
of a government, and leave it in the mean time at the mercy of thir- 
teen other distinct sovereigns, each exercising the real powers of gov- 
ernment in different provinces of the same country. Yet such was 
the fact, and for some years continued to be the fact, in a manner 
that really exercises not a little the patience and good-humor of any 
one who sits at a distance and reads the history of these events. 

To any such person, this celebrated question of the federal govern- 
ment, that is, the question whether there should be a general govern- 
ment for the whole continent, appears, I had almost ventured to say, 
no question at all ; however, it must have agitated America at the 
time, and continued to agitate America long after. To suffer thir- 
teen republics to arise, to quarrel among each other, to destroy each 
other's interests, to be incapable of any connection with the rest of 
the world, rather than combine the whole, by some general govern- 
ment, into a great community that might in the progress of things be- 
come a mighty nation, is a proposition so monstrovis and extravagant, 
that I know not how it is to be looked upon as any other than the 
most important specimen which the history of the world affords of the 
influence of local feelings, long established associations, and all those 
partial views and jealousies which in parishes, corporations, and pub- 
lic meetings we see so often occur, and which are always so justly the 
ridicule and scorn of every intelligent member of the community. 



AMERICAN WAR. 645 

It must be supposed, indeed, out of that common respect which is 
always due to the opinions of others, that the principles of liberty 
were, somehow or other, considered as involved in the question : and 
this was certainly the case. The anti-federalists reasoned, for in- 
stance, each in their particular State, after the following manner: that 
the liberties of that State would be endangered by being committed to 
the guardianship of a general legislature, acting at a distance, and with 
no particular regard for its criticisms or complaints ; that this general 
legislature must have a president, this president a senate, and that he 
must even have a court, executive officers, &c., &c. ; that, in short, 
tlie continent of America would be exposed to all the calamities (such 
they thought them) of a king, an aristocracy, a regular army, as in 
the old governments of Europe. 

But if such be their reasonings, as they certainly were, this I hold 
to be of itself a lesson for all those who love liberty, and who would 
extend its blessings to their country. Men are not to be pedants in 
liberty, any more than in virtue. Though they are not to be oppress- 
ed by tyrants, they must at least be governed by their fellow-men. 
The great principles of independence in the heart of man are to be 
cherished and upheld ; but order, prosperity, the purposes of society, 
must be accomplished. The many must delegate the government of 
themselves to the few. Control, executive power, must be lodged 
somewhere ; and the question is not, as the friends of liberty some- 
times suppose, how the executive power can be made sufficiently weak, 
but only how it can be made sufficiently strong, and yet brought with- 
in the influence of the criticism of the community, — that is, in other 
words, how it can secure the people from themselves, and yet be ren- 
dered properly alive to feelings of sympathy and respect for them, and 
alive also to the obligations of justice and good faith, and to sentiments 
of honor. This, indeed, is a problem in the management of mankind 
not easily to be solved ; but it is the real problem, the proper prob- 
lem, to exercise the patriotism of wise and virtuous men ; and such 
men are not, from the difficulty of it, to rush headlong into any ex- 
tremes, either of authoritative, arbitrary government on the one hand, 
or mere democracy on the other. 

It was so late almost as the year 1789, before the people of influ- 
ence in America could be brought, even by all their experience of 
the evils of inefficient government, properly to interest themselves in 
what was to them the most important question of all others, — the 
formation of some general government for the whole continent. The 
confederation, it was seen, came not sufficiently within this description, 
— the confederation to which I have just alluded, and called the 
second stage of the revolutionary government of America. 

The mind of Washington had evidently been long agitated upon the 
subject. It appears from his letters, that at one period he was in a 
state of considerable despair at the situation of his country ; and it 



646 LECTURE XXXVI. 

was painful to him, he said, in the extreme, to be obHged to think, 
that, after the war had terminated so advantageously for America, 
wisdom and justice should be still wanting to its people, — that, after 
they had confederated as a nation, they should still be afraid to give 
their rulers sufficient powers to order and direct their affairs, — rulers 
placed in such very particular circumstances of transient, delegated, 
and responsible authority. 

At length an effort was made, and this effort was ultimately suc- 
cessful. You will see the particulars in Marshall. But the difficul- 
ties that opposed themselves are very edifying. A few of these par- 
ticulars are the following. 

It happened in 1785, that the provinces of Virginia and Maryland 
had to form an agreement relative to their own commercial interests ; 
and from the settlement of these, they proceeded to propose to all the 
States of America the consideration of their joint interests as a com- 
mercial nation. This at length ripened into a scheme for assembling 
a general convention to revise the articles of confederation, — in a 
word, to form some general government for the continent, to compre- 
hend not only its commercial concerns, but every other concern. 

A convention met at Annapolis, but it consisted only of delegates 
from five States.* The result was a recommendation for another con- 
vention at Philadelphia in 1787. Now the question was, whether this 
convention would ever meet ; if it did meet, whether the thirteen in- 
dependent States, or republics, would forego the pleasure and privi- 
leges and pride of separate sovereignty, for the good of the continent, 
and their own good, properly understood. The probability was, that 
they would not. In the mean time, the mind of Washington, and of 
all wise and good men, was in a state of the utmost gloom and anxie- 
ty. It was evident that the recommendation for a convention to form 
a new government should have come from Congress, — from the con- 
federated government already existing, — not from any particular 
State, like Virginia or Maryland ; and the convention, if met, could 
not be considered as a legal meeting. But again, it was sufficiently 
evident, that, if some efficient government was not soon established, 
the licentiousness of the people would very soon terminate in perfect 
anarchy. Hot-headed, presumptuous, ignorant men were many of 
them, particularly the young, indisposed to all control whatever ; and 
the critical situation of things was extremely increased by the number 
of persons who owed money, and who could see no hope or comfort 
for themselves, but in the absence of all the obligations of order and 
law. 

At length commotions agitated all New England ; and in Massa- 

* Virp;inia, Delaware, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and New York. Marshall gives 
the niimher correctly in liis text, but in a note, designating the States, he inchides 
Maryland, making the number six. This is a mistake. See the Address of the Con- 
vention (Madison Papers, Vol. ii. p. 700). — N. 



AMERICAN WAR. G47 

chusetts a positive Insurrection against all government actually took 
place. Wasliington wrote to his friend, Colonel Humphreys, — " For 
God's sake tell me what is the cause of all these commotions ? Do 
they proceed from licentiousness, British influence, or real griev- 
ances ? " — " From all the information I have been able to obtain," 
said the colonel, " I should attribute them to all the three causes 
which you have suggested ; but it rather appears to me that there is 
a licentious spirit prevaihng among many of the people, a levelling 
principle, a desire of change, and a wish to annihilate all debts, pubhc 
and private." 

General Knox said, — " High taxes are the ostensible cause of the 
commotion, but not the real. The insurgents have never paid any, 
or but very little taxes. But they see the weakness of government. 
They feel at once their own poverty, compared irith the opulent, and 
their own force ; and they are determined to make use of the latter in 
order to remedy the former. Their creed is," — there is always one 
of some kind or other, — " that the property of the United States has 
been protected from confiscation by the joint exertions of all, and 
therefore ought to be common to all." 

A majority of the people of Massachusetts was described by Colo- 
nel Lee, after the manner of General Knox, as in open opposition to 
the government. " Some of the leaders avow," says he, " the sub- 
version of it to be their object, together with the abolition of debts, 
the division of property, and a reunion "with Great Britain. In all 
the Eastern States the same temper prevails more or less." 

" The picture which you have exhibited," replied Washington, 
" and the accounts which are pubUshed, exhibit a melancholy verifi- 
cation of what our transatlantic foes have predicted ; and of another 
thing, perhaps, which is still more to be regretted, and is yet more 
unaccountable, — that mankind, when left to themselves, are unfit for 
their own government. I am mortified beyond expression, I am lost 
in amazement, when I behold Avhat intrigue, the interested views of 
desperate characters, ignorance and jealousy of the minor part, are 
capable of effecting as a scourge on the major part of our fellow-citi- 
zens of the Union ; for it is hardly to be supposed that the great body 
of the people can be so shortsighted." 

But in the midst of all the perturbations of the mind of Washington, 
the even tenor of its justice never forsook it ; and even at this fearful 
moment, his letter gives a lesson to all the governments of the earth. 
" Know," says he, " precisely what the insurgents aim at. If they 
have real grievances, redress them, if possible, or acknowledge the 
justice of them, and your inability to do it in the present moment. 
If they have not, employ the force of government against them at 
once. If this is inadequate, all will be convinced that the superstruc- 
ture is bad, or wants support. To be more exposed in the eyes of 
the world, and more contemptible, than we already are, is hardly 



648 LECTURE XXXVI. 

possible." Such were Washington's sentiments ; and in the history 
you will see that it was found necessary to subdue the insurgents by 
force. 

" But the most important effect of this unprovoked rebellion," says 
Marshall, " was the deep conviction it produced of the necessity of 
enlarging the powers of the general government, and the consequent 
direction of the public mind towards the convention" (I have just 
spoken of) " which was to assemble at Philadelphia." At last it was 
declared in Congress " to be expedient that a convention should be 
held to render the federal constitution adequate to the exigencies of 
government and the preservation of the union." 

This recommendation, which legalized the original scheme, added 
to the consideration of the rebelhon, inclined at length the States of 
New England to favor the measure ; and at the time and place ap- 
pointed, the representatives of twelve States assembled ; — Rhode 
Island was the exception. Washington was elected president, and 
the doors were closed ; — an important meeting for America. On the 
great principles which should constitute the basis of their system, not 
much contrariety of opinion is understood to have prevailed ; but more 
than once there was reason to fear that all would be lost by the rising 
up of the body without effecting the object for which it was assembled. 
At length the high importance of the union prevailed over local inter- 
ests ; and in September, 1787, the constitution was presented to the 
consideration of the different States of the whole continent. 

But neither the intrinsic merits of the scheme of government, nor 
the weight of character by which it was supported (Franklin, Wash- 
ington, and others), gave assurance that it would be ultimately re- 
ceived. Many individuals, it seems, of influence and talents, were 
desirous of retaining the sovereignty of the States unimpaired, and 
reducing the union to an alliance between thirteen independent na- 
tions. Many thought that a real opposition of interests existed be- 
tween these different parts of the continent. Many could identify 
themselves with their own State governments, but considered the gov- 
ernment of the United States as in some respects foreign. Many 
thought that power must be abused, and were therefore persuaded, 
they said, that the cradle of the federal constitution would be the 
grave of republican liberty. Every faculty of the mind was strained 
on the subject of the proposed constitution, to procure its reception 
or rejection. To decide the interesting question, men of the best 
talents of the several States were assembled in their respective con- 
ventions. So balanced were the parties in some of them, that, even 
after the subject had been discussed for a considerable time, the fate 
of the constitution could scarcely be conjectured. In many instances, 
the majority in its favor was very small ; in some, even of the adopt- 
ing States, it is scarcely to be doubted, a majority of the people were 
in opposition ; in all of them, the numerous amendments which were 



AMERICAN WAR. 649 

proposed* show that a dread of dismemberment, not an approbation 
of the system, had induced an acquiescence in it. 

At length the conventions of nine, and subsequently of eleven, 
States assented to and ratified the constitution ; and this most impor- 
tant question, on which it was so difficult to obtain unanimity, and 
which it was therefore so perilous to agitate, was thus at last settled 
in favor (as it must surely be thought) of America. Washington 
was unanimously elected President, and on the 30th of April, 1789, 
deUvered his first speech to the Senate and House of Representatives. 

I have given you this slight account of these important trans- 
actions to induce you to consider them yourselves ; and I have ex- 
pressed myself in the woi'ds of Marshall, shortening and selecting dif- 
ferent sentences from his work, that I might not mislead you by any 
words of my own on subjects so delicate. 

No doubt, the impression on my mind has been the critical state 
of America during this interregnum between the peace in November, 
1783, and April, 1789, — the perilous nature of such discussions, 
and, as I have so repeatedly observed, the paramount necessity of a 
strong executive government to be lodged somewhere or other. 

It may be observed, that I draw my representations from Marshall, 
who was a friend to Washington, and, like him, a Federalist : I do so. 
But not to mention that there is no greater authority than the opinion 
of Washington, on any and on every occasion, I must confess it ap- 
pears to me sufficient that there should have been at the time an 
Antifederalist party at all. Nothing more can be necessary to show 
the incurable nature of human dissent ; the critical nature of discus- 
sions of government ; the doubtful contest which general principles 
must always have to maintain with local politics : and all this goes to 
prove the total necessity of that very executive power, to escape from 
the dangers of which must have been the real aim of all the virtuous 
part of the Antifederalists. 

While the new constitution was offered to the acceptance of the 
different States of ximerica, a book was pubhshed under the title of 
The Federalist. A few numbers were written by Mr. Jay, a few 
more by Mr. Madison, three by Mr. Madison and Mr. Hamilton, and 
the rest by Mr. Hamilton. f These papers contain a very calm and 

* Amendments were proposed in only seven States, ineluding two (North Carolina 
and Rhode Island) which did not accede to the new frame of government until after it 
had hcen some time in operation ; in the other six, Delaware, Pennsylvania, New Jer- 
sey, Georgia. Connecticut, and Maryland, the Constitution was adopted unconditionally. 
See Journal of the Convention which formed the Constitution (Boston, 1819), Supple- 
ment, pp. 391 -462. — N. 

t According to Gideon's edition of the Federalist, first published in 1818, which is 
understood to have been issued under the auspices of Mr. Madison, and is now gener- 
ally received as the standard edition, five numbers, viz. 2 to 5, inclusive, and 64, were 
written by Mr. Jav ; twenty-nine, viz. 10, 14, 18 - 20. 37 - 58, 62, and 63, by Mr. Madi- 
son ; and'the remaining fifty-one, viz. 1, 6 - 9, 11 - 13, 15 - 17, 21 - 36, 59 - 61, 65 - 85, 
by Mr. Hamilton. — N. 

82 3 c 



650 LECTURE XXXVI. 

enlightened discussion of all the material provisions of the new consti- 
tution, and the objections that had been urged against them ; and the 
work, being one of great merit, and highly creditable to the states- 
men by whom it was drawn up, is, of course, represented by an 
American writer, Mr. Bristed, as the concentration of all political 
wisdom, ancient and modern. " In depth and extent of political wis- 
dom, &c., &c., it has no superior in all the world," &c., &c.* It 
certainly may be read, even now, by an English statesman with great 
advantage : such discussions as are alone interesting to America he 
will easily distinguish from the rest, and may pass by ; but most of 
them bear upon corresponding points in the British constitution, and 
cannot therefore be otherwise than instructive. The great value, 
however, of these chapters seems to be the lesson they aiford to all 
who are to engage in the concerns of mankind ; for they show that 
differences in opinion, of the most unexpected nature, must inevitably 
arise among them ; they show the paramount necessity, above every 
other virtue, of the virtue of patience, to those who would enlighten 
mankind, or teach them to pursue their OAvn interests. The reader 

* The Resources of the United States of America ; or, a View of the Agricultural, 
Commercial, Manufacturing, Financial, Political, Literary, Moral, and Religious Ca- 
pacity and Character of the American People. By John Bristed, Counsellor at Law, 
Author of the Resources of the British Empire. New York: 1818. — pp. 15G, 157. 

The critique on the Federalist contained in the work here cited is veiy inadequately 
represented by the few words produced in the text. It is but just, therefore, both to 
author and reader, to give the passage in full. 

"In depth and extent of political wisdom, in the philosophy of jurisprudence, in 
comprehension and elevation of national views, in high and blameless honor, in pro- 
found and luminous ratiocination, in nervous and manly eloquence, in lofty and incor- 
ruptible patriotism, the American Federalist has no superior, and very few equals, in 
all the volumes of political economy, containing the lucubrations of the greatest sages 
and statesmen of modern Europe, whether of England, France, Germany, Italy, Spain, 
or Holland." 

In assuming that the writer of this heaii morceau was " of course " an American, 
Professor Smyth does injustice to his own country. From an autobiographical In- 
troduction to a work published by Mr. Bristed in 1822, entitled "Thoughts on the 
Anglican and American- Anglo Churches," it appears that he was by birth and edu- 
cation an Englishman ; that the credit of his rhetorical culttire is due to " St. Mary's 
College, Winton," — " facility of composition " being an important part of the training 
at this institution ; that his extensive acquaintance with " the lucubrations in political 
economy of the sages and statesmen of England, France, Germany, Italy, Spain, and 
Holland" commenced at the University of Edinburgh, "in the intervals of attendance 
on the medical lectures and visiting the Infirmary," — his " two years of residence in 
that distinguished school of instruction " affording him leisure to engage besides in the 
study of Greek poetry, metaphysics, Voltaire, Rousseau, Helvetizis, and other writers 
of this school, French, English, and Amei'ican ; and that his erudition in "the philoso- 
phy of jurisprudence" was the fruit of a "cultivation of the" kindred "science of 
special pleading" in the Inner Temple, where he completed his professional educa- 
tion. On being called to the English bar, conceiving that the United States "opened 
an inexhaustible region for the development of talents," he took a voyage " to see this 
new Atala7itis" and after " a few years of sojourning in this multitudinous democracy," 
published the results of his observation in the comprehensive work from which Pro- 
fessor Smyth quotes. Thoughts, &c., by John Bristed, (New York, 1822,) pp. 1 -43. 
See also London Quarterly Review, Vol. xxi. pp. 16, 17, 18, 24; North American 
Review, Vol. xi. p. 200; Watt's Bibliotheca Britannica, (Edinburgh, 1824,) Vol. i. 
152 c?. — N. 



AMERICAN WAR. 651 

will £ee in these numbers of the Federalist, that the authors of them 
have found it advisable to exhibit and combat political mistakes, and 
even political absurdities ; to anatomize them, and pursue them 
through all their consequences, to a degree and to an extent that 
could not, a priori, have been thought for a moment necessary. 
And certainly it is continually suggested to the reader that a strong 
executive power must be lodged somewhere, to secure reasonable de- 
cisions upon questions of general import, and to protect the public 
from men of furious tempers, selfish views, and perverse understand- 
ings, such as must inevitably be found, and often with too great influ- 
ence, in every community. 

In the constitution that was at last accepted, and solemnly ratified 
and carried into execution, a few main points, all of the greatest im- 
portance, were happily secured. There were two houses of legisla- 
ture, not one ; the members of the Senate were chosen for six years, 
not two ; and there was to be an executive magistrate chosen for 
four years ; the federal system was in express articles established ; 
and the President and the two houses were the legislature of the 
continent. 

You are now to observe an illustration of what I have repeatedly 
laid down in the course of these lectures : that the lamentations 
of good men on the subject of party are vain ; that parties are in- 
separable from every free government ; and you must either have 
parties Avith all their good and bad effects, or no freedom of thought 
or speech, as in Turkey, or any other state where parties are not to 
be found. 

In America, for instance, as you have already learned, a real dif- 
ference of opinion existed, — the Federalist and the Antifederalist. 
And this difference was not, I apprehend, of a merely economical 
nature : whether the continent of America would rise faster in com- 
mercial and agricultural prosperity by being divided into thirteen dif- 
ferent sovereignties, or by being combined into one. The difference 
did not, and could not, terminate here ; it was of a more general and 
radical nature, and arose from different views in the science of politics. 
The AntifederaUsts were, and always have remained, men of senti- 
ments more violently republican than the Federalists, — men who 
thought mankind might be managed by less of executive authority 
than the Federalists did ; and this difference of opinion does and al- 
ways must exist, not only in the American, but in every other free 
form of government ; though in America this difference, it must be 
confessed, is exhibited in a very striking manner, — it requiring a 
very strong passion indeed for democracy, to suppose that the feder- 
alist government of America is not, and has not always been, suffi- 
ciently republican. 

Such, however, I believe to be a reasonable view of the case be- 
fore us ; and you will see the new constitution of America no soon- 



652 LECTURE XXXVI. 

er carried into execution than the two parties make their appear- 
ance in the houses of legislature. One of the first questions that 
came before them was that to which we have alluded at such length 
already in the last lecture, — the providing for the public debt of 
America. 

No expedient was possible but that of funding. To fund, however, 
on the authority of the federal government, was to enlist, it was 
thought, on the side of the federal system, all those who were thus to 
receive what was due to them, and all others to whom they might 
ever sell or bequeathe their securities ; it was impossible, therefore, 
that such a measure should not be resisted by the Antifederalists. 
They ought, indeed, to have waived their principles in this case, for 
otherwise it was impossible to maintain the most indispensable obli- 
gations of public gratitude and faith. The evils, however, of the 
funding system, and its undoubted influence in favor of arbitrary 
government, supplied them with ample materials of honest and even 
accurate argument, as far as it went, if it had been possible to pro- 
vide for the public debt in any other way. So again, in a subse- 
quent stage of the same question, when a portion of the funded debt 
was to be made permanent, and not to terminate, as the rest was, 
at the end of twenty-five years, all the former arguments recurred, 
and were urged with even more earnestness, and indeed weight, than 
before. 

The debates were very animated and long. It will be very improv- 
ing to you to read the account of them as given b}'- Marshall, and to 
observe the manner in which this great question, so vital to every 
principle of American honor, and even honesty, was at length carried. 
It was carried, to say the truth, by a mere turn of local interest in 
one of the States, — a turn so unexpected, that it might become al- 
most an occasion for laughter and entertainment to those philosophers 
(and such there are) who can find a topic of amusement in the very 
trifling and unworthy circumstances which sometimes influence the 
most momentous concerns of mankind. 

UavTa ye\a)s, Kai Travra Kovts, kol iravra to fir^bev. 

The history, in a few words, is this : — A very able report on the 
subject had been made by the Secretary of the Treasury, Colonel 
Hamilton. After a very animated discussion of several days, a reso- 
lution was carried, by a small majority, in favor of funding and pay- 
ing the debt, according to his rational views, — that is, paying the 
interest, and gradually paying the principal. But soon after, North 
Carohna acceded to the constitution, and its delegates, on taking their 
seats, changed the strength of the parties ; and the question was now 
lost by two voices. Observe now the turn. A bill was brought in 
for fixing the seat of government, and it was at last agreed that some 
place should be selected on the banks of the Potomac. The result 



AMERICAN WAR. 653 

was not a very intelligible result, even when explained by Marshall ; 
— I cannot now stop to give you his explanation ; but the result Avas, 
that two members representing districts on the Potomac went over 
to the other side, and the resolution was now carried, as it had been 
lost, by two voices. It is probable these delegates thought the resi- 
dence of the President and government of America in their province 
was of great consequence to its interests ; and that, if the question of 
the funded debt was not settled in the affirmative, there would ulti- 
mately be no President or American government to reside on the Po- 
tomac, or anywhere else.* 

* To any one wlio may take the trouble to compare the substance of the tliree 
preceding: paragraphs with the authority from wliich it purports to ha\e been derived 
(Marshall's Life of Washinsrton), nothinj^ can appear more extraordinary and un- 
accountable than the total misconception which it exhibits with regard to the great 
(piestiou in controversy on the occasion here referred to. This question, deemed ''so 
vital to every principle of American honor, and even honesty," and which, after various 
fortune and long suspense, " was at length carried by a mere turn of local interest in 
oue of the States," was, — not, as Prof. Smyth seems to suppose, icheiher Congress should 
provide for the public debt, in the only way, as he justly remarks, in which it was possible 
to j>rovidc for it, namely, 6// fundinrj. — but irhether the general government should as- 
sume, and incorporate with the proper debt of the Union, the debts which had been contracted 
durinij the Revolution bg the individual States. To the proposal to fund the national debt 
there was, in fact, but little opposition, — the necessity of some provision of tliis sort 
being very generally admitted ; and there was never the slightest ground for aj)prehen- 
sion as to the ultimate success of the measure. 

It was in the debate on the question of assuming the State delits and funding them 
in common with the national debt, and expressly in opposition to this measure, that the 
arirument noticed in the text was adduced, — namely, that "to fund on the authority 
of the federal government was to enlist on the side of the federal system all those who 
were thus to receive what was due to thcm,"&c. ; or, as Marshall more accurately states 
it, " that tlic general government would acquire an undue influence, and that the State 
governments would be annihilated by the measure"; since "not only would all the in- 
fluence of the public creditors be thrown into the scale of the former, but it would ab- 
sorb all the jiowers of taxation, and leave to the latter only the shadow of a govern- 
ment." Thus api)lied, the pertinency of the argument becomes plain. 

In the '• subsefjuent stage of the same question," as it is termed, the proposition M'as 
not, as Prof. Smyth conceives. " to make a portion of the funded debt permanent, and 
to terminate the rest at the end of twenty-live ye.ars," — no such project was ever ad- 
vanced in anv quarter, — but simply to make the whole irredeemable, except at certain 
slow rates, or at the pleasure of government. In the debate on this occasion there was 
little of that "recurrence to former arguments" which the text supposes. The slight 
resistance made in the outset to the princijjle of funding had long since ceased, and it 
was never afterwards renewed ; the present discussion turned upon a point in its nature 
purely collateral and incidental, and so treated by the opposition, — the policy of im- 
posini/ restrictions on the right of redemption. 

The "history" in the concluding paragraph is defective and erroneous in several par- 
ticulars. The" proper history is briefly this : — On the 14th of January, 1790, the Sec- 
retary of the Treasury, Col. Hamilton, in conformity to a resolution of the House near 
the close of the previous session, presented a " Plan for the Support of the Pul)lic Cred- 
it." ])roviding, among other measures, for the " assumption of the del)ts of the particular 
States by the Union, and a like provision for them as for those of the Union." After a 
verv animated discussion of two or three weeks upon tliis point, a resolution in ac- 
cordance with the Secretary's views was carried in Committee of the Whole, by a vote 
of 31 to 26; and subsequently, a series of resolutions covering the whole ground em- 
braced in the Plan was reported to the House. During these proceedings. North Caro- 
lina, which was strongly opposed to the project of assumption, was without any repre- 
sentatives in Congress, having acceded to the Constitution only the previous November ; 
but shortly afterwards two members came in from that State, when, with their aid, and 

3c* 



654 LECTURE XXXYL 

"What I have now said will afford jou a specimen of the divisions 
to which the American houses of legislature, even while Washington 
was President, were necessarily exposed. But every important 
measure of government, as you will easily see, might very naturally 
call forth the operation of such fundamental principles of dissent as I 
have mentioned : the taxes that were to be laid, whether in the way 
of excise or not ; a national bank, whether it was to be established or 
not (in this last instance, even the cominetency of the new legislature 
legally to form a new corporation was denied) ; and many others ; a 
military establishment, for instance. AVashington did not deny his 
assent to the bill for regulating this military establishment : but in his 
diary there was found a note to say, that he thought it inadequate to 
its purposes, as no doubt it was. 

In March, 1791, terminated the j&i'st session of Congress* under 
the new constitution. 

The Federal party had prevailed at the first elections ; and a ma- 
jority of the members were steadfast friends to the new system. 
Had the legislative assemblies of the new government been uninflu- 
enced, says Marshall, by the previous dinsions of the country, the 

in the absence of some and by a change of votes on the part of others who had prerionsly 
supported it, the resolution respecting the State debts was recommitted by a majority 
of two, 29 to 27, and after renewed discussion was finally struck out by the same ma- 
jority, on a full yote of 31 to 29. A bill embracing all the other essential features of the 
Secretary's Plan was then passed and sent to the Senate, where a provision similar in 
principle to that rejected by the House having been added, it was returned to this 
branch for concun-ence. In the mean time, says ^larshall. a bill establishing a tem- 
porary together with a pennanent seat of government, the former in Philadelphia and 
the latter on the Potomac, having, after a long and severe contest, passed both houses, 
through a compact between the representatives of Pennsylvania and Delaware with 
the friends of the Potomac, two members from districts on this river were thereby con- 
ciliated and brought over to the support of the measure respecting the State debts ; 
through this change of influence a majority in its favor was obtained in the House, and 
it was finally carried, not. as Prof Smyth understands Marshall to imply, " by two 
voices," but, as the Journals of Congress show, by a vote of 34 to 28. or six majority. 

The explanation of the circumstances by which this result was brought about, which 
Prof. Smyth thinks "not very intelligible," may be sufficiently plain to those who con- 
sider that compromises of the sort here indicated are no very uncommon phenomena 
in legislation on either side of the Atlantic. " It has ever been understood," says Mar- 
shall, " that these members were on principle in favor of the assumption as modified 
in the amendment made by the Senate ; but they withheld their assent from it, when 
originally proposed in the House of Eepresentatives, in the opinion that the increase 
of the national debt added to the necessity of gi\'ing to the departments of the national 
goveiTiment a more central residence." " The seat of government will concentrate 
the public paper," said, in the course of debate, one of these members (Mr. Lee, from 
Virginia) : " hence the necessity of a situation from whence all parts of the Union may 
be equally benefited." This object being now attained, through the compromise by 
which some members previously desirous of a different locality were induced to vote 
in favor of a central position, the result in regard to the State debts naturally followed. 

See Marshall's Life of Washington (Philadelphia, 1807), Vol. v. pp. '234 -270. 
Gales's Debates and Proceedings in Congress, Vols. i. and ii., 1789-1791 (Washing- 
ton, 1834). Journal of the House of Eepresentatives, 1st Congress, 2d Session, 1790 
(Washington, 1826). Gazette of the L'nited States for 1790. — N. 

* The first Congress, third and final session ; the first session, as already noticed 
(p. 643), terminated Sept. 29, 1789. Marshall, Vol. v. pp. 222, 305. — N. 



AMERICAN WAR. 655 

many delicate points which they -were called upon to decide must 
have mingled some share of party spirit with their deliberations. 
But in the actual state of the public mind, it was impossible for men 
not to be much disposed to impute to each other designs unfriendly 
to the general happiness. As yet these imputations did not extend 
to the President : but divisions had found their way even into his 
cabinet. Differences had arisen between the Secretary of State, 
Jefferson, and Colonel Hamilton, the Secretary of the Treasury ; all 
deduced, in fact, from the federal question. All opposition to the 
measures of government was, in the first place, levelled at Hamilton, 
and at the Northern members, who generally supported these meas- 
ures. The national prosperity and the popularity of the government 
were in the mean time advancing. But in the State assembUes, 
especially in the southern divisions of the continent, serious evidences 
of dissatisfaction were exliibited, which showed the jealousy entertain- 
ed by the local sovereignties of the powers exercised by the federal 
legislature. 

But the President and the houses of the federal government or Con- 
gress met again in October, 1791, — part of the interval having been 
very properly employed by Washington in making a progress through 
the Southern States, which were always most adverse to the federal 
system. The effect of the President's appearance was favorable ; but 
the hostility to the government was diminished rather than subdued. 

When Congress met, questions still presented themselves that 
awakened and embittered all the real differences of opinion that ex- 
isted between the Federalists and their opponents. The topics in- 
sisted upon by the latter may be easily conceived : that the public 
debt had been artificially produced, because the continent had adopt- 
ed debts which were due only by the several States ; * that the banish- 
ment of coin would be completed by the issue of bank paper ; that the 
funding and banking system afforded effectual means of corrupting 
the legislative bodies ; that the ultimate object of all the system, and 
of its friends, was to change the present republican form of govern- 
ment into that of a monarchy, on the form of the English constitu- 
tion ; that the representatives of the people, on the federal system, 
would be removed at such a distance from their constituents, that they 
would form the most corrupt government on earth ; that taxes and 
tax-gatherers had already made their appearance, and even an ex- 
cise ; that the salaries of public officers were too high ; that the Presi- 

* The Secretary of the Treasury, in his Report on tlie Public Credit, in January, 
1790. estimated the national debt at $ 54.124.404 : to this amount the assumption of the 
State debts ad<lcd less than two fifths, — namely, $ 21.500,000. There could have been 
no pretence, of course, in any quarter, that the public debt had been produced by the 
adoption of the State debts ; nor does Marshall so represent the matter : his lanjruage 

is, — " It was allep;ed that this arcnmu/ation of debt had been artificially produced 

by the assumption of what was due from the States." Life of Washington, Vol. v. 
p. 346. — N. 



656 LECTURE XXXVI. 

dent had levees, and Mrs. Washington evening parties ; that the 
American people were thus to be accustomed to the pomp and man- 
ners of European courts. 

I quote these passages from Marshall, that your observation may 
be drawn to this part of his work. A love for civil liberty is so re- 
spectable at all times, and when the friends of civil liberty in any 
country make mistakes, those mistakes are of such importance, and 
operate so unfavorably to this first of national blessings, that you can- 
not be too well prepared against the errors into which men may fall 
on subjects of this nature. You cannot be rendered too expert in 
detecting the fallacies of popular reasonings on such questions, — in 
seeing the manner in which statements may be exaggerated by feel- 
ings, honorable as well as base, — the manner in which principles the 
most noble may be insisted upon with a disregard to particular cir- 
cumstances, till they become subversive of themselves. 

The mistakes of those who are friendly to harsh government and 
arbitrary power are seldom of any fatal effect to their particular cause, 
for their measures are still only more or less arbitrary ; no advantage 
can commonly be hence obtained against the general cause of arbi- 
trary power. But it is not so with the friends of the liberties of man- 
kind. Do they relax their principles or exertions ? are they careless 
or inert ? The ground they desert is instantly occupied by their op- 
ponents, and cannot afterwards be recovered. Do they urge their 
principles and exertions too far ? are they too active and impassion- 
ed ? Their measures lead to inconvenience or calamity, to some in- 
jurious disturbance of the political machine, and moderate men join 
the side of their opponents. Their injudicious attempts to advance 
the public good are reprobated, and they are themselves accused of 
factious selfishness, or ridiculed for enthusiasm and folly. 

The cause of civil liberty has to depend, not only on the virtues, 
but on the wisdom, of mankind ; arbitrary power, only on their neces- 
sities. The advocates for the one have always to prove, first, that 
their own intentions are pure, and, secondly, that their measures are 
calculated to advance the happiness of the community ; the supporters 
of the other have only to show that they are securing its peace and 
order. And thus it happens, as I have so repeatedly intimated in 
the course of these lectures, that civil liberty is of all things the most 
perishable and delicate ; arbitrary rule, on the contrary, the most 
hardy and indestructible. 

I will encroach upon your time while I further endeavour to en- 
force such general reflections as I have already made on the nature 
of parties, by a further reference to the work of Marshall, and to the 
characters he gives of the two most important ministers of Washing- 
ton's cabinet. These two characters may, perhaps, serve as general 
descriptions of the two great parties of America. 

Mr. Secretary Hamilton had long served his country in the field, 



AMERICAN WAR. 657 

and passed from the camp into tlie Congress, where he remained for 
some time after the peace had been established. In the first situa- 
tion he had fully witnessed the danger to which the independence of 
his country was exposed from the imbecility of government ; in tlie 
latter, he saw her reputation lost, and her best interests sacrificed, 
chiefly from the same cause. Having, therefore, long felt the mis- 
cliiefs produced by the State sovereignties, he naturally supported 
the federal government. He had wished the executive power and 
the Senate more permanent, and still retained and openly avowed the 
opinion, that American liberty and happiness had much more to fear 
from the encroachments of the great States than from those of the 
general government. These opinions will become your own, if you 
should ever read the numbers of his work, the Federalist, 

]Mr. Secretary Jefferson, on the contrary, had retired from Con- 
gress before the depreciation of the currency had produced an entire 
dependence of the Congress on the local govei'nments. He then filled 
the highest offices in one of those local governments (Virginia), and 
about the close of the war went to France, and was there on a diplo- 
matic mission while the first clear symptoms were appearing, and the 
first steps were taking, of that revolution in France which so agitated 
the minds of all reflecting men. In common with all his countrymen 
then in France, Mr. Jefferson took a strong interest in fiivor of the 
popular cause, and from his prior habits of thought, the men with 
whom he associated, and a residence all the time at the court of Ver- 
sailles, it is not surprising that the abuses of monarchy should be ever 
present to his mind, and that he should suppose liberty (even when 
he returned to America) could sustain no danger but from the ex- 
ecutive power. The fears, therefore, of Mr. Jefferson took a different 
direction from those of Colonel Hamilton, and all his precautions were 
used to check and limit the exercise of the authorities claimed by the 
general government. 

I shall proceed to one feature of difference more. The war left in 
the xlmerican people, very naturally, a strong attachment to France 
and enmity to Great Britain. This sentiment was universal, and 
found its way into the cabinet ; but Colonel Hamilton thought that no 
such sentiment should influence the poUtical conduct of America ; 
Jefferson maintained the contrary. 

The press v/as not silent. The Gazette of the United States sup- 
ported the measures of Hamilton and the federal government ; the 
National Gazette was the paper of the opposition. These papers ar- 
raigned the motives of those they differed from with equal asperity 
and injustice. 

The two secretaries, in the mean time, were eternally at variance. 

The President implored and admonished in vain ; he loved the men, 

he respected them ; he had a great, a sincere regard and esteem, he 

told them, for both ; his earnest Avish, his fondest hope, was, that, in- 

83 



658 LECTURE XXXVI. 

stead of wounding suspicions and irritating charges, there might be 
liberal allowances, mutual forbearances, and temporizing yieldings on 
all sides. " Differences," said he, in one of his letters to the At- 
torney-general,* " in political opinions are as unavoidable as, to a cer- 
tain point, they may be necessary ; but it is exceedingly to be re- 
gretted, that subjects cannot be discussed with temper, on the one 
hand, or decisions submitted to on the other, without improperly im- 
plicating the motives which led to them ; and this regret borders on 
chagrin, when we find that men of abilities, zealous patriots, having 
the same general objects in view, and the same upright intentions to 
prosecute them, will not exercise more charity in deciding on the 
opinions and actions of each other." 

Now from these transactions some general hints may be drawn, and 
references made to our own politics. It is often said, that those who 
are in administration have no wish but the emoluments of their office, 
and that those who are in opposition have no meaning but to get their 
share. Such are the views often taken by the parties of each other, 
or rather by the violent men in each party of each other, and some- 
times by very sagacious men, as they conceive themselves to be, 
among the public at large. Yet in America we see the same appear- 
ances taking place as with us : ministry and opposition ; government 
newspapers and opposition newspapers ; mutual suspicions and invec- 
tives ; ribaldry and rage ; discontent and clamor; and, though Hamil- 
ton himself and Knox were afterwards obliged to resign their offices, 
from the inadequate nature of their salaries, the same declamation 
about the emoluments of office : the phenomena are just the same, and 
therefore the shallowness of the very elegant solution that I have just 
mentioned of such political occurrences in a free government, the 
supposition that every thing is on each side a mere question of plun- 
der, need not further be insisted upon. 

You will now be able, I conceive, even from the few passages I 
have quoted, to form a general idea of the situation of America dur- 
ing the first sitting of the federal government ; and you will, I appre- 
hend, draw the conclusion which I am all along proposing to you, — 
that civil liberty may be endangered, not, as in general, from the 
strength, but sometimes from the very weakness, of the executive 
power. 

Now in the state of things which has thus in a general manner 

* To Alexander Hamilton, Secretary of the Treasury, Aug. 26, 1 792. See Marshall, 
Vol. V. Note to p. .358 ; Sparks's Writings of Washington, Vol. x. pp. 2S.3, 284. 

The mistake here noted, though in itself quite unimportant, claims a moment's ob- 
servation, as illustrating the haste with which the present lecture was manifestly drawn 
up. The extract in the text was taken from Marshall, who introduces it with the fol- 
lowing remarks : — " About the same time a letter was addressed to the Attorney- 
general on the same subject. The following extract is taken from one of the twenty- 
sixth of August to the Secretary of the Treasury." Professor Smyth evidently glanced 
only at the first of these two sentences ; hence his error in speaking of the letter which 
he quotes as addressed to the Attorney-general. — N. 



AMERICAN WAR. 659 

been exliibitecl to you, the French Revolution took place. You will 
not suppose that this could be an event indifferent to America ; that 
every thing which assumed the form of executive power in her n;ov- 
crnraent should not be shaken to the centre. Happily, the first Con- 
gress, or, if I may so speak, the first specimen of the federal govern- 
ment, was terminated in March, 1793,* while Washington could be 
once more the representative of that executive power ; and Washing- 
ton being not only a man of great ability and patriotism, but, what 
was of even still greater importance at the time, a man of most sober 
judgment, America and her government escaped the injurious influ- 
ence of this most tremendous event. 

It is not Avithin the limits I have prescribed to these lectures to 
enter into transactions of this kind : whenever I advance in the course 
of history so far that the French Revolution comes in sight, I turn 
upon my steps, and take some new direction ; and this, therefore, I 
now do. I do so the more readily, because on the subject of the in- 
terference of the French in the concerns of America there cannot be 
two opinions ; but that part of Marshall's work which relates to affairs 
so critical cannot, I am sure, be hereafter overlooked by you. 

The conduct of Washington, indeed, " great in these moments, as 
in all the past," remains above all praise ; he persuaded his country, 
he enabled his country, to stand aloof from the unhappy storm of 
European politics ; he resigned his popularity to accomplish so great 
an end ; and ho maintained the constitution over which he presided 
by a serene and dignified confidence in its merits, and a calm exercise 
of its acknowledged powers and authority. He was insulted, he Avas 
resisted in his own executive department as the chief magistrate of 
America, by the French ambassador ; no intemperate expression, 
however, escaped him in his official communications, either to his own 
legislature or to that ambassador. The labors of the press, the en- 
thusiasm of the people, the intrigues of democratic societies, who 
voted themselves forsooth the guardians of American liberty, the 
natural sentiments of hatred to England, all were united against the 
temper and wisdom of Washington ; but he rose superior to them all. 
He contented himself with steadily maintaining the principles of the 
laws of nations, and the regulations of his own government ; and he 
then laid an able exposition of his case before the French government, 
and calmly desired the recall of their ambassador. A new ambassa- 
dor was sent from France ; the clouds grew lighter, the thunders rolled 
away, and the horizon at length cleared up, discovering the President 
left in the same place and attitude by the storm in Avhich the storm 
had found him ; but the countenances of all wise and good men were 
instantly turned upon him with the most animated smiles of reverence 
and love. 

* The second Congress. The first Congress terminated, as before observed (p. 654), 
in March, 1791. — N. 



660 LECTURE XXXVI. 

Differences, in like manner, of the most serious nature had occur- 
red between the United States and Great Britain ; differences which 
had inflamed, in like manner, to the most intolerable degree, the 
members of the legislature and the different parties of America. The 
President once more hstened to the tempest, and, after watching its 
progress for some time, decided upon his measure. He addressed 
the Senate in the following manner : — 

" The communications which I have made to you during your pres- 
ent session, from the despatches of our minister in London, contain a 
serious aspect of our affairs with Great Britain. But as peace ought 
to be pursued with unremitted zeal, before the last resource, which 
has so often been the scourge of nations, and cannot fail to check the 
advanced prosperity of the United States, is contemplated, I have 
thought proper to nominate, and do hereby nominate, John Jay, as 
envoy extraordinary of the United States to his Britannic Majesty." 

Scarcely any public act of the President drew upon his administra- 
tion a greater degree of censure than this : this censure constitutes a 
most striking part of his merit. The result was, that, instead of mak- 
ing a war with England, he made a treaty of commerce. 

That this treaty should be reprobated, because it had not laid Eng- 
land at the feet of America, cannot be wondered at. In points of 
this nature all nations are the same, equally selfish and unreasonable. 
Town and country meetings (not the best judges of such subjects) 
were everywhere held. The mind of Washington Avas unusually 
anxious, and even disturbed. But, at length, the confidence which 
was felt in the judgment and virtue of the chief magistrate began 
silently to produce its proper effect ; and though the majority of the 
House of Representatives (the more popular part of the legislature) 
was against the treaty, a clear majority of the people (marvellous to 
relate) at last declared themselves in favor of it, — that is, in favor 
of prosperity and peace. 

I cannot go into the detail of the merits of Washington, In the 
course of his administration he had to assert the constitutional rights 
of the executive power against the House of Representatives. In the 
year 1794, he had to issue his proclamations, call forth the militias, 
and put down by force (every lenient measure having been tried in 
vain) a positive insux-rection in Pennsylvania ; and he had continued 
to maintain the proper exercise of authority, the principles of peace, 
of national justice, and of civil liberty, till, amid the wild effusions of 
virulence and folly, he was at last himself accused even of peculation, 
and of plundering the public, in the discharge of his office : it was even 
thought necessary that the Secretary of the Treasury should produce 
his accounts. 

The period, however, at length arrived when Washington thought 
he might retire, — when the situation of America allowed him, as he 
conceived, to consult his own inclinations. As the last service he 



AMERICAN ^YAR. 6G1 

could o.Ter, he drew up a valedictory address, in whicli lie endeavour- 
ed to impress upon his countrymen those great political truths which 
had been the guides of his own administration, and which could alone, 
in his opinion, form a sure and solid basis for the happiness, the inde- 
pendence, and the liberty of America. This composition is not un- 
Avorthy of him, for it is comprehensive, provident, affectionate, and 
wise. You will conceive the topics of it : gratitude to his countrjmicn 
for their confidence and support on every occasion ; the necessity and 
the advantages of the federal system, and of a government as strong 
as was consistent with the perfect security of liberty. " Liberty," 
he observed, " is little else than a name, where the government is too 
feeble to withstand the enterprises of faction, to confine each member 
of the society within the limits prescribed by the laws, and to maintain 
all in the secure and tranquil enjoyment of the rights of person and 
property"; that, however useful might be the spirit of party (and 
he thought it might be useful in governments of a monarchical 
kind, and to keep alive the spirit of liberty), the contrary was the 
case in governments purely elective ; that of the dispositions and 
habits which lead to political prosperity religion and morality were 
the indispensable supports ; that a volume could not trace all their 
connection with private and public felicity ; and that, whatever might 
be conceded to the influence of refined education on minds of peculiar 
structure, reason and experience both forbade men to expect that 
national morality could prevail in exclusion of religious principle. 
He insisted that good faith and justice were to be observed to all na- 
tions. " Can it be," said he, " that Providence has not connected 
the permanent felicity of a nation with its virtue ?" Respecting the 
conduct of America to the nations of Europe, his advice was impar- 
tiality, neutrality, — to have as little political connection as possible. 
It is but painful to observe his description of our European nations : — 
" Why," says he, " entangle our peace and prosperity in the toils of 
European ambition, rivalship, interest, humor, or caprice ?" 

" The sentiments of veneration," says his biographer, " with which 
this address was generally received, were manifested in almost every 
part of the Union. Some of the State legislatures directed it to be 
inserted at large in their journals, and nearly all of them passed 
resolutions expressing their respect for the person of the President, 
their high sense of his exalted services, and the emotions with which 
they contemplated his retirement from ofiice." 

I must conclude my account of Washington by observing that the 
behaviour of France made it necessary for America to disturb this 
great man once more in his retirement, and to place him at the head 
of her military force. Washington, indeed, expected that fiivorable 
alteration in the conduct of France which afterwards took place ; but 
he lived not to see it ; dying hi December, 1799, after a short illness, 
and resigning his spirit, with a calm and untroubled mind, to the dis- 

3d 



662 LECTURE XXXVI. 

posal of that Almighty Being in -u-hose presence he had acted his im- 
portant part, and to whose kind providence he had so often committed, 
in many an anxious moment, in the cabinet and in the field, the desti- 
nies of his beloved country. " He was not," he said, " afraid to die." 
To the historian, indeed, there are few characters that appear so 
little to have shared the common frailties and imperfections of human 
nature ; there are but few particulars that can be mentioned even to 
his disadvantage. It is understood, for instance, that he was once 
going to commit an important mistake as a general in the field ; but 
he had at least the very great merit of listening to Lee (a man w^hom 
he could not like, and who was even his rival), and oinot committing 
the mistake. Instances may be found wdiere perhaps it may be 
thought that he was decisive to a degree that partook of severity and 
harshness, or even more ; but how innumerable were the decisions 
which he had to make, how difficult and how important, through the 
eventful series of twenty years of command in the cabinet or the field ! 
Let it be considered what it is to have the management of a revolu- 
tion, and afterwards the maintenance of order. Where is the man 
that in the history of our race has ever succeeded in attempting suc- 
cessively the one and the other, — not on a small scale, a petty statg 
in Italy, or among a horde of barbarians, but in an enlightened age, 
when it is not easy for one man to rise superior to another, and in 
the eyes of mankind, — 

"A kingdom for a stage, 

And monarchs to behold the swelling scene " 1 

The plaudits of his country were continually sounding in his ears, and 
neither the judgment nor the virtues of the man w^ere ever disturbed. 
Armies were led to the field with all the enterprise of a hero, and 
then dismissed with all the equanimity of a philosopher. Power was 
accepted, was exercised, was resigned, precisely at the moment and 
in the way that duty and patriotism directed. Whatever was the 
difficulty, the trial, the temptation, or the danger, there stood the 
soldier and the citizen, eternally the same, without fear and without 
reproach, and there was the man who was not only at all times virtu- 
ous, but at all times wise. 

The merit of Washington by no means ceases with his campaigns ; 
it becomes, after the peace of 1783, even more striking than before ; 
for the same man, who, for the sake of liberty, was ardent enough to 
resist the power of Great Britain and hazard every thing on this side 
the grave, at a later period had to be temperate enough to resist the 
same spirit of liberty, when it was mistaking its proper objects and 
transgressing its appointed limits. The American Revolution was to 
approach him, and he was to kindle in the general flame ; the French 
Revolution was to reach him and to consume but too many of his 
countrymen, and his oivn " ethereal mould, incapable of stain," was 



AMERICAN WAR. 663 

to " purge off the baser fire, victorious." But all this was clone : he 
might have been pardoned, though he had failed amid the enthusiasm 
of those around him, and when liberty was the delusion ; but the foun- 
dations of the moral world were shaken, and not the understanding of 
Washington. 

To those who must necessarily contemplate this remarkable man at 
a distance, there is a kind of fixed calmness in his character that seems 
not well fitted to engage our affections (constant superiority we rather 
venerate than love) ; but he had those who loved him (his friends and 
his family), as well as the world and those that admired. 

As a ruler of mankind, however, he may be proposed as a model. 
Deeply impressed with the original rights of human nature, he never 
forgot that the end and meaning and aim of all just government was 
the happiness of the people, and he never exercised authority till he 
had first taken care to put himself clearly in the right. His candor, 
his patience, his love of justice were unexampled ; and this, though 
naturalli/ he was not patient, — much otherwise, highly irritable. 
lie therefore deliberated well, and placed his subject in every point 
of view, before he decided ; and his understanding being correct, he 
was thus rendered, by the nature of his faculties, his strength of mind, 
and his principles, the man of all others to Avhom the interests of his 
fellow-creatures might with most confidence be intrusted ; that is, he 
was the first of the rulers of mankind. 

The American Revolution is a great epoch in the history of the 
world, and nothing but the appearance of the French Revolution, so 
fitted, from its tremendous circumstances and unknown consequences, 
to sweep away every thing else from tTie curiosity and anxieties of 
mankind, could have made men insensible, as they may now be, to an 
event in itself so striking and important. By the American Revolu- 
tion the foundations of a new empire are laid, immense in extent, un- 
rivalled in natui'al advantages, and at a safe distance from the hostili- 
ties of the Old World ; a new empire is to begin its course where 
other empires have ended, with all the intellectual, moral, and relig- 
ious advantages which other empires have attained only during the 
time that has elapsed since the records of history began. A recepta- 
cle is now opened for every human being, of whatever country, and 
whatever be his disposition or fortunes, opinions or genius. What is 
to be the result of such an admixture and colHsion of all personal 
qualities and intellectual endowments ? 

The government, too, is founded, not only on a popular basis, but 
on a basis the most popular that can well be conceived. It must 
even be confessed that in America is to be made a most novel and 
important experiment, and it is this : — with how small a portion of 
restraint and influence the blessings of order and Christianity can be 
administered to a large community. It must be observed, indeed, 
that this experiment is to be made under such particular advantages 



664 LECTURE XXXVI. 

of a new country as must always prevent America from being a prece- 
dent for older states and empires. This is true ; yet, to the reasoners 
of after ages, it will be useful to learn from the event Avhat may rea- 
sonably be expected from mere human nature when placed in the 
most fmiorable situation, and what it is that government may properly 
attempt to do for mankind, and what not. This I think will hereafter 
be shown, when all the attendant circumstances have been properly 
balanced and considered. What, however, Avill be the result ? 

I am much disposed to oifer this subject to your reflections, and 
therefore, as a conjecture, though an obvious one, I should say 
(though I cannot allude to what m"ay be said of a contrary nature) 
that the great event to be expected is, that this empire should break 
up into two or more independent states or republics, and that at some 
distant period the continent of America may be destined to exhibit all 
the melancholy scenes of devastation and war which have so long dis- 
graced the continent of Europe. This, however, must be considered 
as the grand calamity and failure of the whole ; it can arise only from 
a want of strength in the federal government, — that is, from the 
friends of liberty not venturing to render the executive power suffi- 
ciently effective. This is the common mistake of all popular govern- 
ments : in governments more or less monarchical the danger is always 
of an opposite nature. 

In the mean time, I know not how any friend to his species, much 
less any Englishman, can cease to wish with the most earnest anxiety 
for the success of the great experiment to which I have alluded, for 
the success of the constitution of America. I see not, in hke manner, 
how any friend to his species, much less any American, can forbear 
for a moment to wish for a continuance of the constitution of England, 
— that the Revolution of 1688 should for ever answer all its important 
purposes for England, as the Revolution of 1776 has hitherto done for 
America. What efforts can be made for the government of mankind 
so reasonable as these, — a limited monarchy and a limited republic ? 
Add to this that the success of the cause of liberty in the two coun- 
tries cannot but be of the greatest advantage to each, — a limited 
monarchy and a limited republic being well fitted, by their comparison 
and separate happiness, each to correct the peculiar tendencies to 
evil which must necessarily be found in the other. Successful, there- 
fore, be both, and while the records of history last, be they both suc- 
cessful ! that they may eternally hold up to mankind the lessons of 
practical freedom, and explain to them the only secret that exists of 
all national prosperity and happiness, the sum and substance of which 
must for ever consist in mild government and tolerant religion, — 
that is, rationally understood, in civil and religious liberty. 

Mark the difference between Europe and Asia. What is it, what 
has it ever been ? Slavery in the one, and freedom in the other. 
Take another view, more modern and more domestic. Mist is in the 



AMERICAN WAR. 665 

valley, and sterility is on the mountain of the Highlander ; his land is 
the land of tempest and of gloom, but there is intelligence in his looks 
and gladness in his song. On the contrary, incense is in the gale, 
and the laughing light of Nature is in the landscape of the Grecian 
island ; but 

" Why do its tuneful echoes languish, 
Mute but to the voice of anguish ? " 

Yet where was it that once flourished the heroes, the sages, and the 
orators of antiquity ? What is there of subhmity and beauty in our 
moral feelings, or in our works of art, that is not stamped with the 
impression of their genius ? 

Give civil and religious liberty, you give every thing, — knowledge 
and science, heroism and honor, virtue and power. Deny them, and 
you deny every thing : in vain are the gifts of nature : there is no 
harvest in the fertility of the soil ; there is no cheerfulness in the radi- 
ance of the sky ; there is no thought in the understanding of man ; 
and there is in his heart no hope : the human animal sinks and 
withers ; abused, disinherited, stripped of the attributes of his kind, 
and no longer formed after the image of his God. 



84 3d 



NOTES 



*j^* The Notes are always taken from Notebooks that were laid on the table of the Lecture-room. 



INTRODUCTORY LECTURE. 

The professorship of Motlcrn History and Languages was founded by George the 
First, in 1724, on the recommendation of the Duke of Newcastle. His Grace has the 
merit of being one of those very few ministers, since the times of the Eeformation, who 
have endeavoured to amplify the means and extend the usefulness of the literary estab- 
lishments of this country. 

On the death of Dr. Turner, in 1762, the professorship became vacant, and the 
modesty and pride of Gray at last yielded to the influence of his friends, and he ap- 
plied to Lord Bute for tlie situation. It was, however, given to the tutor of Sir James 
Lowther ; and the most distinguished man of letters then in the University, and perhaps 
the most elegant scholar of tlie age, was left to his poverty, or to a state that but too 
much resembled it. 

At a subsequent period, while he was still pursuing " the silent tenor of his doom," 
the professorship was once more vacant. It must ever have been amongst the most 
pleasing recollections of the Duke of Grafton, that he was the minister whose fortune 
it was to have directed the rays of royal bounty to their noblest object, and to have 
cheered, with a parting gleam, the twilight path and closing hours of the poet Gray. 

His Grace had a second time the merit of making an honorable choice in the late 
professor. Dr. Symonds. From him the chair has received a very valuable library. 
But it is to be lamented, that, a little before his death, he destroyed the lectures he had 
delivered, and all his historical papers. 



LECTURES L-IV. 



I. 



S.vvAGE and civilized life may each exhibit the disgusting extremes of opposite 
evils ; but it is in vain to fly from the one, to be lost in the still more frightful degrada- 
tion of the other ; not to say that the propensities and capacities and irresistible im- 
pulses of our nature seem clearly to indicate that we are not intended for solitude and 
torpor, but for society and improvement. 

n. 

It is not easy to lay down maxims in politics ; man is such a compound being of 
reason and feeling, so alive to the impression of the moment, so entirely at the mercy 
(in his political capacity, at least) of the present uneasiness. 

The political discourses of Hume are the best models we have of the reasoning that 
belongs to subjects of this nature. They best admonish us of the slow step with which 
we should advance, and the wary distrust witli which we should look around, before we 
think that we have reached a maxim in jiolitics, that is, a general principle, on the 
steady efiiciency of which, in real practice, we may always depend. 

"Civil knowledge," says Lord Bacon, "is conversant about a subject which of all 
others is most immersed in matter, and hardliest reduced to axiom." 



6G8 NOTES. 



III. 

Recueil des Historiens des Gaules et de la France. 

Religious societies, like those of the Benedictines, have often been stigmatized as 
the abodes of laziness and superstition ; but sweeping accusations are seldom just. To 
this society, for instance, literature is indebted for works of the most serious imj)ortancc ; 
works of such labor and extent, that they have been begun by one generation of men, 
and left to be prosecuted and finished by those which succeeded. This is a sort of ser- 
vice which could not well have been rendered to mankind but by those wlio did not 
labor for profit, and who were always in a state of continued existence, by being linked 
together as members of the same society. 

IV. 

Charlemagne undertook, at his leisure, to learn to write. What a characteristic 
of the age ! " Sed parum prospere successit," says Eginhard, " labor prseposterus ac 
sero inchoatus." Of such a man, so unlettered, the merit is the greater, as we are told, 
at the same time, that he attended to the liberal education of his children ; that he had 
books read to him while at table ; that he acquired tlie Latin language, and a knowledge 
of the Greek ; that he zealously cultivated the libei-al arts, and bestowed on the profes- 
sors every mark of respect and honor ; that he studied the sciences of rhetoric, logic, and 
astronomy ; that he ordered the laws of his subject nations to be drawn up and reduced 
to writing. His great merit seems to have been, that he knew his best interests and 
duties, and therefore felt for the people, and patronized the free assemblies of the state. 



Prologus Legis SalictB. 

Placuit atque convenit inter Francos, et eorum proceres, ut propter sei-vandum in- 
ter se pacis studium, omnia incrementa veterum i-ixarum resecare deberent : et quia ce- 
teris gentibus juxta se positis fortitudinis brachio prceminebant, ita etiam legum auc- 
toritate pr£ecellerent ; ut juxta qualitatem causarum sumeret criminalis actio terminum. 
Extiterunt igitur inter eos electi de pluribus quatuor viri his nominibus, Wisogastus, 
Bodogastus, Salogastus, et Widogastus, in villis qua; ultra Rhenum sunt, Salehaim, et 
Bodohaim, et Widohaim : qui per tres mallos (markets) convenientes, omncm causarum 
originem sollicite discutiendo tractantes, de singulis judicium decreverunt hoc modo. 

Anno ab incarnatione Domini nostri Jesu Christi DCCXCVIIL, indictione sextfl, 
dominus Karolus Rex Francorum inclytus hunc libellnm tractates legis Salicaj scribere 
ordinavit. 

VI. 

The conquered Romans were indulged by the Barbarians in the free use of their 
own law (the Theodosian Code), especially in the cases of marriage, inheritance, and 
other important transactions of life. 

VII. 

With respect to property, the student will learn the situation of the Romans by con- 
sulting the thirtieth book of Montesquieu, from the fifth chapter to the sixteenth. 

The Franks .seem to have seized only on a part of their lands, probably because, in 
the then existing state of society, they had no occasion for the whole. Those of the 
Northern nations who settled near Italy were induced or obliged to treat them more 
liberally. The Burgundians, for instance, took two thirds of the land, and one third 
of the bondmen. 

The slaves were not Romans, but those unhappy men who were carried into captivity 
by a conquering army, retiring, as was often the case, from a province or a kingdom 
which it had overrun. 

Freemen among the Barbarians seem to have paid no taxes themselves. 

Of the Romans, some seem to have licen proprietors, and some tributaries : by which 
term was probably meant those who paid rent. 



LECTURES I. -IV. G69 

When the Burgundian empire was attacked by Clovis, its fall was delayed by the as- 
sistance which the Burgundians received from tlieir conquei'cd subjects, the Romans: 
one instance among many of the policy of all mild government, — so often exhibited, 
but in vain, to the humanity of those who direct the counsels of states and empires. 

The Burgundians, the Lombards, and the Visigoths had been more connected with 
the Romans : and their laws and their codes are, therefore, favorably distinguished from 
the codes of the more simple and rude Barbarians. 

VIII. 

Maxy efforts seem to have been made by these Barbarians to preserve integrity and 
despatch in the judges, and other officers connected with the administration of justice. 
This is the great difficulty. " Custodes ipsos quis custodiet ? " 

The judges must be few, the bar intelligent, the public interested in their own politi- 
cal happiness : that is, the judges of a country, like all other human beings, can be kept 
vii-tuous only by being subjected to the criticism of their fellow-creatures. 

IX. 

These ancient Codes and Capitularies remained long in force in Germany, longer 
in Italy, still longer in France. Their authority was shaken by the incursions of the 
Normans, and by the weakness of government under the successors of Charlemagne. 

Curious particulars occur in these Capitularies : the influence of the clergy more 
especially, the deep and dark superstition of the people, and, on the whole, the unhappy 
state of society. 

The clergy, however, were considered as the patrons and guardians of justice and 
humanity, as far as justice and humanity were then understood. " Sacerdotcs Dei," 
says one of the laws (30th*) of the Visigoths, "quibus pro remediis oppressorum vel 
pauperum divinitus cura commissa est," &c., &c. This was a law of one of theii* princes 
in the year 670. 

X. 

Symptoms of the feudal system appear in these Laws. Of the 9th law of the 9th 
book t the title is, — " De his qui in exercitum constituto loco vel tempore definito non 
successerint, aut refugerint ; vel quse pars scrvorum uniiu<<cuj usque in eadcm expeditione 
debeat proficisci." But quite distinctly about the year 801, in the edicts of Charlemagne, 
cap. 1 : 1 — "In primis quicunque beneficia habere videntur, omnes in hostem veniaut." 
So the second. And again, — " Omnis libei- homo," &c., &c. 

XI. 

Particulars of an amusing nature are sometimes found in these ancient documents. 
" Si quis medicus," says one of the laws of the Visigoths who possessed Spain, " dura 
flebotomum exercet, et ingenuura debilitaverit, centum solidos coactus exsolvat. Si 
vero mortuus fuerit, continuo propinquis tradendus est, ut quod de eo facere volucrint, 
habcant potestatem."§ The Sangrados of Spain seem to have made their appearance 
early. 

XII. 

The superstition of the age, as may be supposed, furnishes many laws and observ- 
ances and ceremonies that may make the reader, in his happier" state of religious 
knowledge, "smile or sigh," according to his particular temperament. 

The intolerance of these lawgivers is such as might be expected ; for the Barbarian 
of the seventh century speaks thus, alluding to unbelievers (a title in all probability 
then easily acquired): — "In virtute Dei aggrediar, hostes ejus insequar, ajmulos ejus 
persequar," &c., &c., till he renders them like the "pulvercm aut lutum sordidum 
platearum," &c., &c. Tlie reason why his fellow-creatures are to be thus trampled into 

* Cod. "Les. Wisi?oth. Lib. II. Tit. I. cap. xxx. ed. Lindenbrogii. — N. 

t Ibid. Lib. IX. Tit. II. cap. ix. — N. 

I Capitulare Anni DCCCVII. Capit. Ree. Franc, ed. Baliiz. Tom. I. col. 457. — N. 

§ Cod. Leg. Wisigolh. Lib. XI. Til. I. cap. vi. — N. 



670 NOTES. 

the dust is much the same that would have been given by the barbarians of all subse- 
quent centuries : — " Ut dum fideles populos in religionis sacrae pace possederim, atque 
iniideles ad concordiam religiosaj pacis adduxerim, et mihi crescat in gloria prsemium; 
ut virtutem Dei dilatem, atque augeam regnum." * 

XIII. 

Against the poor Jews there was an edict, "Ne Judsei sectam suam defendere au- 
deant," — which, it seems, was "religioni nostrie insultantes," &c.t Yet were law- 
givers like these able to express themselves, as may be seen in the 15th law, with all 
the fervor of eloquence and piety : — " Juro et per Jesum," &c., &c. p. 2324 

XIV. 

In these Codes and Capitularies may be seen evidently the origin of many of the 
peculiarities of our own laws and customs, and the practice of all the more distinguish- 
ing rites of the Roman Catholic communion: the services, even as here given, are 
solemn and affecting. 

Liudenbrogius and Baluze are the authors where every thing that concerns these 
subjects is to be found. 

On the feudal system I have made a few obseiwations and bound them up separately 
with Mr. Butler's note, and they lie on the table. 

XV. 

Progress ofSocieti/. 

It is to be feared that Stuart, in his criticisms on Dr. Robertson, was but too much 
affected by feelings of personal animosity : he was a man of powerful but irregular 
mind, and, in his differences with such a man as the Principal, must have been in the 
wrong. I have understood this to be the case. 

XVI. 

Mahomet. 

The dreadful alliance of military and religious enthusiasm has often been exhibited 
on the theatre of the world : but the fact is, that the military spirit is easily associated 
with any strong passion. The soldiers of the Roman republic in ancient times, and of 
the French nation in our own times, are instances to this effect ; and the rulers of any 
state should be very careful how they place their enemies within the reach of any union 
of this kind. 

For the life of Mahomet we have to depend on Abulfeda, who did not reign till 1310, 
and who cannot appeal to any writer of the first century of the Hegira. This is a dis- 
agreeable circumstance. — See Gibbon, note, Cliap. 50. 

XVII. 

The French peers seem never to have been satisfied, unless the origin of their dis- 
tinction was lost in the obscurity of the earliest ages. 

A reasonable opinion is delivered by the President Henault, in the Life of Hugh 
Capet. Montesquieu may be consulted, and Mably. 

xvni. 

The rise of the Norman empire in Sicily, in the relation of which history becomes 
romance, should also be considered. It may be read in Gibbon. 

XIX. 

The histoiy of the Albigenses, and the crusade against them, are deserving of at- 

* Cod. Leg. Wisi?olh. Lib. XII. Tit. II. cap. i. — N. t njid. Lib. XII. Tit. III. cap. ix. — N. 
I Ibid. Lib. XII. Tit. III. cap. xv. — N. 



LECTURES I. -IV. 671 

tention. An account may be found in Pore Daniel, or ratlier in Vclly. But the 
Frenrli writers must always be read with due allowance, when the principles of civil 
and religious liberty are concerned. 

These heretics, the Albigenses, were among the precursors of the Reformation. 
Their manners and opinions have been probably misrepresented and vilitied. Their 
fate and history are melancholy and interesting. 

The subject seems properly stated by Dr. Uanken, in his late History of France ; and 
it is here that the student will in the most ready manner acquire a proper idea of it. 

XX. 

St. Louis (Louis the Ninth, of France). 

The penal provisions of St. Louis bear a sanguinary and ferocious character. 

The efforts which he made for the serfs became, from their very feebleness, an honor 
to the legislator, and an additional disgrace to the age. 

The serf, says the lawgiver, may be pursued wherever he flies for liberty. But all 
causes of serfage are to be decided by the ordinary judges of the crown. 

In all cases, where the proofs for and against the serfage are equal, let the decision 
be in ftivor of liberty. 

Let the child of a serf and a freewoman be free like the mother : " a new and extra- 
ordinary favor," says the historian. 

XXI. 

With respect to the more early jurisprudence of France, it may be observed, that 
the ancient Codes and Capitularies had fallen into disuse ; ancient customs, which had 
always existed along with them, multiplied as they declined. Written collections of 
these were often made. 

The monarchs of the Capetian race, when they gave their fiefs, prescribed by charter 
the terms on which they were to be held. The result of the whole was, that each 
seigniory had its particular usages. 

Among such various systems of jurisprudence, the " establishments of St. Louis " 
have always been considered with great respect, on account of their wisdom and an- 
tiquity. 

In 14,5.3, Charles the Seventh made an effort to reduce the various customs of 
France into some form, and to ascertain their nature: a measure of such difficulty, that 
it lingered till the reign of Louis the Twelfth, and was not completed till 1609.' The 
whole, when finished and sanctioned, was called " Coutumier de France," and has been 
edited by Richebourg, in four volumes folio. — See Butler's Ilorce Juridical. 

XXII. 

Power of the Pope. 

Charlkmagxk elected the Pope, and was, therefore, supreme ; but the Pope had 
anointed Charlemagne, and was, therefore, supreme also. The scale of power was 
thus left to incline to the one side or the other. 

The steps, by which the power of the Pope became a despotism so complete, are 
marked with sufficient minuteness by Giannone, in his ecclesiastical chapters, par- 
ticularly in his fifth chapter of his nineteenth book, which will supply adequate in- 
formation. 

The first great point was to exempt the clergy from secular jurisdiction, and this 
was at length accomplished. 

The second, to include within the description of clergy all who had ever received the 
tonsure. 

The third, to draw all causes within their jurisdiction which involved any breach of 
faith ; for where there was a breach of faith, there was sin, and therefore the soul was 
concerned, and therefore the Church. 

The fourth, to bring all testaments within their jurisdiction ; for testaments, it seems, 
were a matter of conscience. Add to this, that the testator was to be buried by the 
Church, and his soul to be put into a state of rest and quiet ; his movables were tiiere- 
fore to be seized, in the first place, to put the Church into a state of rest and quiet also. 



672 NOTES. 

He might, too, have made bequests to the Church : a point which the Church were, 
therefore, to ascertain. 

Again, if among the litigants there was a clergyman, the cause was to be referred to 
the Church. 

Then the Church was to be appealed to, if the civil lawyers disagreed, — a circum- 
stance which might certainly happen ; for the Jews, in a similar case, had always, it 
was observed, applied to the Levites. 

Then they were to supply the defects of negligence and partiality in the secular 
judges. 

Then they were to take cognizance of all causes wliere the poor and strangers, where 
wards and widows, were concerned ; for of such they considered themselves as pro- 
tectors. 

Next, they insisted that many crimes, such as bigamy and usury, were not only, in 
strictness, of an ecclesiastical nature, but were at least liable to both jm-isdictions, the 
spiritual as well as the temporal ; and therefore they took care to exert proper speed 
and arrive at the offender first. 

Lastly, all cases where matrimony was concerned; for matrimony was a sacrament. 

All this was accompanied by the tribunal of the Inquisition, which was established 
in the thirteenth century, and which originated in a natural but most unfortunate mis- 
take, that heresy was a crime that must at all events be prevented and punished. The 
civil power, before the appearance of the Inquisition, had proceeded to fine, imprison- 
ment, and, at last, death ; so rapid is the dreadful march of intolerance ! But when 
the preaching friars, and the friars minores, the Dominican and Franciscan orders, had 
sprung up, tlie Dominicans were soon ready to execute any commission of inquiry into 
heresy ; and the tribunal of the Inquisition was immediately in a state of activity, and 
arrayed in all its tremendous apparatus of familiars, inquisitors, torturers, and execu- 
tioners. 

Finally, it was not only in spiritual, but temporal matters, that the ecclesiastical 
power was to be supreme. Princes were to be summoned to Rome to purge them- 
selves of their crimes. The Pope himself was to be the lord of the universe. 

The means by which such a system of jurisdiction was extended and established ap- 
pear to liave been tlie different processes of spiritual punishment, ending at last in total 
excommunication ; a sentence, of the hon-ors of which no one now can have the slight- 
est conception. 

XXIII. 

In Dryden's play of Sebastian, Act ii. Scene 1, may be found the image applied by 
Hume to the clergy of every age and description. 

DoRAx to the Mufti. 

"Content you with monopolizing heaven, 
And let this little hanging ball alone; 
For, give you but a foot of conscience there, 
And you, like Archimedes, toss the globe." 

The image is not too strong, when applied to the clergy of the Dark Ages. Hume was 
a reader of Dryden's plays, and probably borrowed in this instance, but without ac- 
knowledgment. 

XXIV. 

When Charlemagne was no more, the Saxons rushed out in every direction, as did 
afterwards the Danes and Normans; and they were able, from the almost incredible 
lightness of their vessels, their desperate seamanship and hardy courage, to be a more 
dreadful torment to tlie peaceful inhabitants of Europe than even tlie Northern con- 
querors themselves had been. They established themselves in Sicily, a large division 
of "Trance, in England, &c., &c. 

XXV. 

In the history of the free and commercial cities, there are various traits of the opera- 
tions of the principle of utility. 



LECTURES I. -IV. 673 



XXVI. 

Some idea must be formed by the student of a very fatiguing portion of history : the 
times of the Hanseatic league, the struggles of the P^mperors and Popes, &c., &c. 
Pfeffel may be consulted, and Gibbon. The student, through all the ditferent dynas- 
ties noted down in Pfeffel, must mark well the relative power and j)retensions of the 
Popes and Emperors: the effort of the See to deprive the Emperors of the nomination 
to the vacant beuetices, to transfer to the Holy See the election even of the Emperor 
himself, &c., &c. 

Gregory the Seventh was the great hero of this species of warfare against the im- 
provement and happiness of society. Excommunication was the great engine by 
which the Papal See performed its wonders. The Popes, even while arrogating to 
themselves the right of dethroning Emperors, had the hardiness to reason, — " Officii 
nostri est regem investire : enjo quern meritura investimus, immeritum quare non di- 
vestiamus ? " 

It is the misery of mankind, that there is no cause so unreasonable, for which some- 
thing like reasoning may not be produced. It is thus that men originally good are 
often led step by step into serious faults, and that bad men can affect to palliate and 
even convert their crimes into virtues. 

In the course of this struggle, Conrad, king of the Romans, and heir to the Emperor, 
appeared against him in arms. It was in vain that the unhappy father appealed to the 
rights of his crown, and the common feelings of human nature. "I acknowledge not," 
said this abominable son, " either for my emperor or father, one who is excommuni- 
cated." 

XXVII. 

The reign of Frederic the Second should be particularly noticed, as it exhibits the 
lengthened and intrepid resistance of a most accomplished and able prince to the Pa- 
pal See. Innocent, when Pope, was no longer his friend. The official character, as 
usual, triumphed over the natural feelings of the man. 

XXVIII. 

The to^\'ns and cities, the great hope of mankind at this period, acquired freedom 
and importance gradually and insensibly. By Henry the Fifth and Lothaire they 
were converted each into a sort of little republic, and their number was multiplied. 
The artisans were enfranchised, &c., &e., till men who had once been objects of sale 
and transfer emerged at length from their unnatural degradation. 

XXIX. 

Frederic was a great patron of the cities of the Empire. 

It is a trait of these times, that Frederic, even in the cities he patronized, exercised 
the power of uniting in mai'riage, as he pleased, the children of the 2irincipal citizens. 

XXX. 

Gibbon has made several observations on the different Emperors of these different 
dynasties, and on their contests in Italy. 

Giannone should likewise be consulted. Ilis work is a History of Naples ; but many 
parts may be selected of great general interest and importance. 

The observations of Pfeffel, on the great interregnum of twenty-three yeai-s betwe^i 
Frederic the Second and Rodolph, should be particularly considered. 

XXXI. 

The most extraordinary man of his age was Louis the Ninth (St. Louis), uniting 
the magnanimity of the hero and the simplicity of the child. 

The student can scarcely be excused, if he does not turn aside to look at the account 
of his expedition given by Joinville, especially as Mr. Johnes has so laudably employed 
himself in rendering it accessible to every reader by a new translation, accompanied by 

85 3e 



674 NOTES. 

extracts from the notes and dissertations of tlie indefatigable Du Cange. The knights, 
the monarch, and their followers arc sliown in the faithful mirror of their ordinary con- 
duet. The picture is the picture of ancient manners and opinions. 

The Lord de Joinville is no philosopher, but he incidentally supplies materials to 
those who are. "The king," says he, "summoned all the barons to Paris to renew 
their oath of fealty and homage; but I," says Joinville, '■'■luho ivas not his man, would 
not take the oath." This passage has often been quoted, to show tliat the under- vas- 
sals owed fidelity and homage to their own immediate lords onli/ and exclusively : an 
important distinction, very favorable to disorder, &c. 

XXXII. 

In another passage, notice is taken of what were called " the pleadings at the gate " ; 
and the second dissertation from Du Cange, quoted by Mr. Johnes, exhibits concisely 
the natural progress of jurisprudence, from the first audience of comphiints by the 
kings themselves, to the dispensation of justice by their governors and deputies ; the 
establishment of courts of justice in their palaces : and, lastly, the subdivision of the 
Parliament, or great court of justice, into different courts or chambers. 

Again, in the instructions of St. Louis to his son, given by Joinville, the king says, 
" Maintain such liberties and franchises as thy ancestors have done ; for, by the riches 
and power of thy principal towns, thy enemies will be afraid of affronting or attacking 
thee, — more especiaWy thi/ equals, the barons or such like." Tliesc last words illus- 
trate and enforce the reasonings of philosophical writers on these times. 

In the narrative of Joinville we see the readiness and confidence with which the cru- 
saders converted every operation of the general laws of the Deity into marks of the par- 
ticular interference of Heaven. This has always been one of the characteristics of en- 
thusiasm. 



LECTURES v., VI. 

In reading these Lectures on the subject of England, I took occasion to introduce 
the following remarks. 



Wb are now in possession of some valuable publications from the pen of Sir James 
Mackintosh on the subject of English history. These octavo volumes are intended by 
the editor for the general reader, and are proposed as a sort of popular history. 

But the fact is, that the mind of this eminent man of letters is of too philosophic a na- 
ture, too generalizing, and too enlightened, to admit of his writing for any one who can 
be described by any such term as the general reader. These are not books, unassum- 
ing as they may look, that he who runs may read ; he who reads must move slowly and 
stop often. Sir James is one who necessarily thinks in a manner tliat, however it may 
afterwards reward, will assuredly first require, the best thinking of any man who means 
to be benefited by what he reads. 

I must mention, too, that there is an air of uncertainty about- the pages of these little 
volumes, that renders them very agreeable. It is evidently quite impossible to know, 
as we proceed, what we are next to find, — that is, what a man so enlightened and so 
able may think it worth his while to observe. 

We shall probably lose the great work which Sir James projected as a continuation 
of Hume. This, on every account, is for ever to be lamented ; no one ever had access 
to such materials, or was so fitted to use them. But the present cabinet volumes will, 
no doubt, present to us the most valuable comments on the most important characters 
and periods of our history ; — but these are treatises on history, not histories. 

Since I wrote what you have just heard, this illusti-ious man of letters has sunk into 
the grave, from a slight accident and immaturely. No loss can be so great to the 
literary world. His understanding was of so superior a quality, his memory so aston- 
ishing, and his disposition so truly courteous and obliging, that he was always able and 
always willing to instruct every person who approached him. And on every occasion, 



LECTURES v., VI. 675 

his entire sympathy with the great interests of mankind, and his enlij^htened compre- 
hension of them, were distinctly mariced. He was one of those whom, for the benefit 
of others, one could have wished exempt from the common lot of humanity. One could 
have said to him, as do the Persians to their king, — '• Live for ever." lie should have 
been exempted, too, from the common cares of our existence, and, instead of having to 
make provision for the day that was going over him, should have had nothing to do 
but to read, to tiiiuk, and to write. Men of these great intellectual powers should 
not, like their fabled prototype, be chained to their rock with the vultures to tear 
them. 

Some papers remain, which will afford a melancholy indication of what under favor- 
able circumstances he might have done: what he has done, however, is of great value 
and will live. He can be properly estimated only by those who were fortunate enough 
to know hira. 

II. 

Op Mr. Hallam's Constitutional History I spoke in the following manner in my 
lectures in November, 1828. 

Mr. Hallam's Constitutional History of England I must earnestly recommend, for 
it is a work of great research, great ability, great impartiality, often of very manly 
eloquence; the work of an enlightened lawyer, an accomplished scholar, and a steady 
assertor of the best interests of mankind. It is a source of great satisfaction to me 
that such a work exists, for every page is full of statements and opinions on every topic 
and character of consequence since the reign of Henry the Seventh ; and these senti- 
ments and opinions arc so learned and well reasoned, that I am quite gratified to think 
that the student can now never want a guide and an instructor worthy to conduct and 
counsel him in his constitutional inquiries. Mr. Hallam is, indeed, a stern and severe 
critic, and the student may be allowed to love and honor many of our patriots, states- 
men, and divines in a more warm and unqualified manner than does Mr. Hallam ; but 
the perfect calmness of Mr. Hallam's temperament makes his standard of moral and 
political virtue high, and the fitter on that account to be presented to youthful minds. 

There are objectionable passages, and even strange passages, more particularly in 
the notes ; but they are of no consequence in a work of so vast a range, and of so much 
merit. And Mr. Hallam may have given oflence, which could never have been his in- 
tention, to some good men, to whom their establishments are naturally so dear; but I 
see not how this was to be avoided, if he was to render equal justice to all persons and 
parties, all sects and churches, in their turn, — and if he was to do his duty, as he has 
nobly done, to the civil and religious liberties of his country. 

III. 

The story of England has of late been illustrated by many intelligent and laborious 
inquu-ers. We have had the Roman Catholic case stated by Dr. Lingard, an author 
of original inquiry and vigorous mind, — certainly a very skilful controversial writer. 
For similar reasons we may now consider ourselves as in possession of the republican 
case, during the times of Charles the First ; for Mr. Godwin has dedicated four volumes 
to the subject, and for this express purpose. A new edition of Burnet has been given 
us. The History of Clarendon has at last, very creditably to our sister University, 
been presented to the public in its original state. Miss Aikin has drawn up interesting 
Memoirs of Queen Elizabeth and James the First, and an important work on the reign 
of Cliarles the First : she is a diligent and sagacious writer. There are treatises com- 
ing out, volume after volume, by a most entertaining and learned anti(juarian, Mr. 
D'Israeli. And we have fierce and eloquent orations on the merits and demerits of 
the great personages of our history, ecclesiastical and civil, Laud, Clarendon, and 
others, in the different reviews by which our periodical literature is now distingtiished. 

There are several very agreeable and sensible publications bj' Lord John Kussell. 
Recently has been published a posthumous work of Mr. Coxe, a literary laborer to 
whom the historical student is so much indebted, — the Pelham Papers: the_y supply 
the information that has been so long wanted, with respect to the politics and charac- 
ters of the members of the Pelham and Newcastle administrations. 



676 NOTES. 

IV. 

Edward the Confessor's Laws. 

The laws of Edward the Confessor are lost. The great Alfred was a legislator ; and 
Edward the Confessor is represented as having revised and improved the laws of his 
predecessor, Edgar, and therefore probably of Alfred, rather than as having instituted 
any code of his own. It might have been thought, therefore, that some information 
on this subject might be olitained from any writings that respected Alfred. There is 
a life of him by the monk Asserius, and there are laws of his which are come down to 
us, and which may be seen in Wilkins ; but neither in the work of his biographer, nor 
in these laws of Alfred, can any thing be found which may enable us to understand 
what were the laws of Edward the Confessor. 

It may, perhaps, give the student some insight into the nature of an inquiry like this, 
if he takes the trouble of following the subject through one, at least, of the notes of a 
learned antiquarian. 

Eadmerius is a monkish writer, who gives the history of his own age, of William the 
First to William Rufus and Henry the First : his work was edited by the learned Sel- 
den. Now it is known that William the First entered into some agreement with his 
subjects respecting the laws of Edward the Confessor; and it might be expected that 
Eadmci'ius, when he gives the history of the reign of William, would also have given 
us some account of this remarkable code. But in the course of the history, the monk, 
with more than the stupidity of a monk, instead of giving us these laws, observes, that 
he "forbears to mention what was promulgated by William with respect to secular 
matters." So here we have a complete disappointment. This gives occasion to his 
editor, Selden, in a note, to consider the suliject more at length. 

Selden produces a passage from the Lichfield Chronicle, a very ancient monkish 
writing, from which it appears that the Conqueror, in the fourth year of his reign, 
granted the laws of Edward the Confessor to the intercession of his English subjects, — 
"ad preces communitatis Anglonim"; and that twelve men were chosen from each 
county, who were to collect and state what these laws were ; and that what they said 
was to be written down by the Archbishop of York and Bishop of London. Here, 
then, we have a fact connected with the subject. 

Another monkish historian, Roger Hovedcn, who lived under Henry the Second and 
John, gives the same account, and he subjoins the laws themselves at full length. 
From him they are published by Wilkins ; and here, then, we might suppose that we 
had reached the object of our inquiry. But not so. When we come to peruse them, 
there is little to be found which could make them so dear to the English commonalty; 
and by looking at the eleventh head, on Dane-gelt, we perceive the name of William 
the younger, or of William Rufus, which shows, as Selden observes, that they are of a 
later date than the time of the Conqueror, or at least most unskilfully interpolated. 
This, therefore, on the whole, is also a disappointment. 

Selden has therefore recourse, in the next place, to Tngulphus, who was a sort of 
secretary to the Conqueror. Ingulphus, at the end of his History, tells us that he 
brought' the code of Edward's laws, which William had authorized and renewed, from 
London to his own abbey of Croyland, for the purpose of securing, as he says, the so- 
ciety from the penalties which were contained in it " in the following manner." And 
now, then, we might expect once more to find the laws all subjoined. But here the 
History ends, and the laws are wanting in the MS. 

But a new attempt is made by the illustrious antiquarian, — for these valuable men 
are possessed, at least, of the virtue of patience, — and in a later MS., written, he 
thinks, about the year 1 200, he finds a code at the end of it, which from the title should 
be the code required. This code he gives, and endeavours to translate. It is also 
given by Wilkins, and translated still more completely. But our disappointments are 
not here to cease. Even this copy of the code must surely be materially imperfect. 
We look in vain for those general provisions of protection to the subject, which must 
have made these laws so dear to our ancestors. 

Finally, it is collected from the monkish historians, that Henry the First, to ingra- 
tiate himself with his subjects, granted them the laws of Edward the Confessor. A 
code of Henry's laws has come down to us, and may be seen in Wilkins. But it is a 
grant of Edward's laws that we find here mentioned, and no detail of the laws them- 
selves. Here, then, we have once more a disappointment, and further research seems 
at an end. 



LECTURES v., VI. 677 

The code of Henrj' was, no doubt, to a certain extent modified and meliorated ac- 
cording to this favorite model ; but of the model itself no furtlier knowledge can be ob- 
tained. Our lawyers and antiquarians arc, therefore, left to conclude that these cele- 
brated laws of Edward the Confessor may now be imaged to us by what is called "the 
common law of the land," or the unwritten collection of maxims and customs which 
are transmitted from lawyer to lawyer and from age to age, and have obtained recep- 
tion and usage among our courts and judges. 



Cfiaiiers. 

The 9th of Henry the Third is the final one, and that, therefore, which is always 
commented upon. 

Of the whole thirty-eight clauses, about one half respect merely the oppressions of 
the feudal system. But by the words of the thirty-eighth clause, the feudal tyranny, 
wherever relaxed between the king and his vassals, was to be relaxed between the su- 
perior and inferior, through all the links of the feudal subordination. 

And of the thirty-eight clauses, some were of a general nature. 

By the ninth and tiiirtieth, an effort was made for the benefit of commerce; protec- 
tion afforded to the trading towns, foreign merchants, &c., &c. 

The eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth, seventeenth, twenty-fourth, twenty-eighth, and 
thirty-fourth were intended for the better administration of justice. 

In the twenty-sixth may be seen the first effort that was made to procure for an ac- 
cused person a trial, — that is, in other words, to protect the subject from arbitrary im- 
prisonment. 

Yet so slow is the progress of civil liberty, that the first principles of the most obvi- 
ous justice couhl not be secured till some centuries afterwards, by the proper fitting up 
of the writ of Habeas Corpus in the reign of Charles the Second. 

The thirty-seventli clause runs thus : — " Scutagium de caetero capiatur sicut capi 
solebat tempore regis Henrici avi nostri." And in the time of Henry the Second the 
scutage was moderate. 

The important point of the levying of money was thus left in a very imperfect state. 
But in the connrmation of the charters by Edward the First, it was distinctly stated 
that no money should be levied upon the subject, except by the common assent of all 
the realm, and for the benefit of the whole realm. 

The celebrated statute, " De tallagio non concedendo," is shown by Blackstone to be 
probabli/ nothin'i more than a contemporary Latin abstract of the two French charters 
themselves, and not a statute. 

The most striking clause of all, so well known, so often quoted, so justly celebrated, 
runs thus : — " NuUus liber homo capiatur," &c., &c., " nisi per legale judicium parium 
suorum vel per legem teiTae," &c., &c. 

This twenty-ninth clause contains a general description of a free constitution. Dr. 
Sullivan, in his Lectures on the Laws of England, has made it the subject of a com- 
ment through all its words and divisions: that, in the first place, it secures the personal 
liberty of the suliject; in the next, the full enjoyment of his property, &c., &c. And 
certainly, while the spirit of this clause is preserved, civil liberty must be enjoyed by 
Englishmen : whether, however, this .spirit shall be preserved, depends upon their pre- 
serving their own spirit. The book of Dr. Sullivan is worth looking at. You may see 
from the contents what parts are more particularly deserving of your attention. 

The Charter of the Forest speaks volumes to those who can reflect on what they read. 

Observe the words of the tenth clause : — " Nullus de ctetero amittat vitam vel mem- 
bra pro venatione nostri. Sed si quis captus fuerit, &c., &c., jaceat in prisona nostra 
per unum annum," &c., &c. Offences in the forest must have been, before this time, 
often punished by the loss of life or limb, when murder was not. 

Observe, too, the clauses which concede the restoration of whole tracts of land to 
their former state, — tracts which had been reduced to forests. 

That the kings of these days, and no doubt their barons, should have been so inter- 
ested in hunting as to be guilty, for the sake of it, not only of robbery and tyranny, but 
of maiming men and even putting them to death, is no slight proof of the value of 
those elegant arts and that more extended system of inquiry and knowledge, in conse- 
quence of which the manly exercises are left to fill their place, and not more than their 
place, in the circle of human anxieties and amusements. 

3e* 



678 NOTES. 

Our j^ame laws and our country gentlemen are the regular descendants of the forest 
laws and barons of ancient times. They are thought by many to bear some marks of 
their iron original. 

In the fourth clause of Magna Charta are these words: — "Et hoc sine destructione 
et vasto (waste) hominum vel rerum": that is, the laborers and the stock are summed 
up together; no distinction made between them. 

The barons, tlie assertors of their own independence, though they felt for freemen and 
those below them, were but too insensible to the situation of the villeins, — to the heavy 
system of slavery which they saw, or rather did not see, darkening with its shade the 
fair fields of their domain. 

In like manner were the English nation, in our own times, twenty years in abolish- 
ing the slave trade ; and if the whole kingdom had been equally accustomed to the 
trade as were tlie ports of Bristol and Liverpool, they would have been twenty centurks. 

The effect oi habit in banishing all the natural feelings of mercy, justice, benevolence, 
as in the instances of slave-dealers, banditti, supporters of harsh laws, penal statutes 
against Dissenters, &c., &c., is perfectly frightful. 

VI. 

There is a book by Daines Barrington, Observations on the Ancient Statutes, 
which shoidd be considered. It is often descriptive of the manners of the times, of the 
views and opinions of our ancestors : it is even entertaining. 

The conclusion which the student should draw is, the good that might be done, or 
might be at least most honorably and virtuously attempted, by any legislator or lawyer 
who would turn his attention to our statute-book, procure the repeal of obsolete stat- 
utes, endeavour to make our law proceedings less expensive, — in short, not acquiesce 
in the general supposition, that no improvements can be introduced into our laws and 
our administration of them. Much good might be done by patient, intelligent men ; 
but the most sullen, and unenlightened, and unfeeling opposition must be more or less 
expected from our courts of law, and all who are connected with them. 

" Truths would you teach, or save a sinking land," 

— that is, would you improve laws, and keep people from being ruined, — 

" All fear, none aid you, and few understand." 

This note was written in the year 1 808, and the author has since lived to see and 
admire the humane and intelligent efforts of Sir Samuel Romilly, Sir James Mackin- 
tosh, Mr. Peel, and Mr. Brougham. 

VII. 

Sir John Fortescue, Chancellor to Henri/ the Sixth. 

Two treatises of his have come down to us, that seem quite decisive of the question 
relative to our monarchy, as understood in early times, — whether arbitrary or not. 
The first is De Laudibus Legum Anglife. 

The distinction that the Chancellor everywhere makes is between "power royal" 
and " power politique," that is, arbitrary monarchy and limited ; and he lays it down, 
that the kings of England are not like other kings and emperors, but are limited. 

(Translation quite close and exact.) 

Ch.ap. 9th. "For the king of England cannot alter nor change the laws of his realm 
at his pleasure. For why? he governeth his people by power, not only royal, but also 
politique. If his power over them were royal only, then he might change the laws of 
his realm, and charge his subjects with tallage and other burdens without their consent ; 
and such is the dominion that the civil laws purport, when they say, Tlie prince his 
pleasure hath the force of a law. But from this much dift'creth the power of a king 
whose government over his people is politique, for he can neither change laws without 
the consent of his subjects, nor yet charge them with strange impositions against their 
wills," &c., &c. — "Nam non potest rex Angli.-e, ad libitum suum," &c., &c. 

In Chapter 18th, he observes: — " Sed non sic Angliae statuta oriri possunt," &c. 
"But statutes cannot thus pass in England, forsomuch as they are made not only by 



LECTURES v., VI. 679 

the prince's pleasure, but also by the assent of the whole realm : so that of necessity 
they must procure the wealth of the people, &c., &c., seeing they are ordained not by 
the device of one man alone, or of a hundred wise counsellors only, hut of more than 
three hundred chosen men, &c., &c., as they tliat know the fashion of the rarliament 
of lOngland, and the order and manner of calling the same together, are able more dis- 
tinctly to declare," &c., &c. 

The young prince (Henry's son, Prince Edward), to whom the discourse is addressed, 
asks, — Sinc'c the laws of England are, as he sees, so good, why some of his progeni- 
tors liave gone about to bring in the civil laws, &c. 

In those laws, says the Chancellor, "the prince's pleasure standeth in force of a law: 
quite contrary to the decrees of the laws of England," &c., &c. But " to rule the peo- 
ple by government politicpie is no yoke, but liberty and great security, not only to the 
subjects, but also to tlie king himself." And to show this, tiie Chancellor considers 
" the inconveniences that happen in the realm of France through regal government 
alone." He then treats of " the commodities that proceed of the joint government 
politique and regal in the realm of England." Then, " a comparison of the worthiness 
of botli the regiments." 

The whole work is very concise, but full of curious matter. 

VIII. 

Original Insignificancy of the House of Commons. 

In the beginning of the reign of Richard the Second we find the following pas- 
sage : — 

" As to the aid the king demanded of his Commons for the defence, tScc, &c., the 
Commons said. That in the last Parliament in his first year, the same things were 
shown unto them in behalf of the king, &c., &c. ; that in hopes of the promise held out 
to them to be discharged of tallage for a great time after, they granted a greater sum 
than had been given to any king to be levied in so short a time, &c., &c. ; and after 
their grievous losses, and the low value of their corn and other chattels, they concluded 
with praying the king to excuse them, not being able to bear any charge for pure pov- 
erty {f>ur pure poverte). To all which Monsieur Richard le Scrop" (who, it seems, 
was steward of the household) ''answered, making protestation. That he knew of no 
such promise made in the last Parliament, and, saving the honor and reverence due to 
the king and lords, what the Commons said was not true {le dit de la Comiine en celle 
partie ne contient mye verite)." This, at a time, when, if such language had been used 
by Monsieur le Scrop to the lo7-ds, the floor of the assembly would have been instantly 
covered with gauntlets. 

When the feudal system declined, the power, which could not then be occupied by 
the Commons, (the nobility had been swept away by the civil wars,) fell into the pos- 
session of the crown, a natural and constant claimant. The liberties of England were 
therefore in great danger, when princes so able as those of the house of Tudor were to 
be followed by princes so arbitrary as those of the house of Stuart. 

The two great efforts of Henry the Seventh were, first, to destroy the power of the 
aristocracy ; secondly, to amass treasures to render the crown independent : his ambi- 
tion and avarice ministered to each other. But the first point he could not attempt to 
carry without advancing the power of the commons. He could not, for instance, open 
the way to the lords to alienate their lands, without giving the commons an oppor- 
tunity of purchasing them, — that is, of turning their mercantile affluence into consti- 
tutional importance. The second point, however, was of a different nature. lie could 
not amass the treasures which he wished, without encroaching upon the exclusive right 
of Parliament to levy money; and if the practices, pretences, and prerogatives, which 
he introduced, advanced, and renewed, had not been resisted by our ancestors in the 
time of Charles the First, the liberties of England must gradually have decayed. 

Sir Thomas More, when young, resisted Henry tlie Seventh's demand from the 
Commons of about three fifteenths for the marriage of his daughter: the king actually 
threw More's father, then a judge, into the Tower, and fined him one hundred pounds. 
Had not the king died, Sir Thomas was determined to have gone over sea, thinking, 
" that, being in the king's indignation, he could not live in England without great dan- 
ger." — See Roper's Life. 

The Life of Henry the Seventh has been written by Lord Bacon. Such a man as 
Bacon can never write without profitably exercising, sometimes the understanding, 



680 NOTES. 

sometimes the imagination of his reader ; yet, on the whole, the work will disappoint 
him. The circumstances, indeed, in which Lord Bacon was phiced, rendered it im- 
possible for him to exercise the superior powers of his mind with any tolerable free- 
dom. He wrote his History of Henry the Seventh during tlie period of his disgrace 
under the reign of James the First. It was not for Lord Bacon to reprobate the rob- 
beries of Henry the Seventh, when he had himself received money for the perversion 
of justice, or, at least, had been accused and disgraced for corrupt practices and con- 
nivances. It was not for Lord Bacon to assert, as he had once done, the popular 
principles of the English constitution, while writing under the eye of a monarch like 
James the First, one not only impressed with the divine nature of his prerogative, but 
one to whose humanity he owed his liberty at tlie time, and the very means of his sub- 
sistence. The faults of ordinary men may be buried in their tombs ; but the very frail- 
ties of men of genius may be the lamentation of ages. 

The hiws of Henry the Seventh merit the consideration of the student. It was the 
intention of tliese laws to advance the husbandry, manufactures, and general com- 
merce of the country. The observations of Lord Bacon, and the subsequent criticisms 
of Hume, will afford the student a lesson in that most difficult and important of all 
practical sciences, the science of political economy. 

On the subjects that belong to this science, it may, I think, be observed, that, from 
the extent and variety of the points to be considered, the first impressions are almost 
always wrong. Practical men, as they are called, are therefore pretty generally mis- 
taken on all such subjects ; particularly where they think themselves exclusively en- 
titled to decide. Practical men are fitted, and fitted only^ to furnish facts and details, 
which it is afterwards the business, and the proper business, of the philosopher or 
statesman to make the foundation of his general reasonings and permanent laws. 

So fallacious are first impressions, so remote and invisible is often the general prin- 
ciple that ought ultimately to decide us, that even the philosopher himself must, on 
such subjects, be much indebted to experience. Our ancestors could not be inferior in 
understanding to ourselves : who could be superior to Lord Bacon ? Yet the laws of 
Henry the Seventh, which Lord Bacon extols, and which would appear wise, perhaps, 
to the generality of men at this day (1808), are shown by Mr. Hume to be founded on 
narrow views, and to be the very reverse of what Lord Bacon supposed them to be. 

It is on account of Mr. Hume's observations on the subjects of political economy, 
that the appendices of his History are so valuable. Different portions of his work are 
likewise in this manner rendered valuable, more particularly the estimates which he 
gives of a reign when he comes to the close of it. Look at his account of the miscel- 
laneous transactions, for instance, of Edward the Second. " The kingdom of Eng- 
land," says he, " was afflicted with a grievous famine," &c., &c. And then he goes on, 
in a few words, to lay down all the proper principles, which were afterwards so beauti- 
fully drawn out and explained by Adam Smith in his Dissertation on the Corn Laws, 
and which required all the authority of the minister, the late Mr. Pitt, to enforce upon 
the community, and even upon the houses of Parliament themselves, while men were 
everywhere raving about " monopolizers of corn," " the necessity of fixing proper rates 
to the price," &c., &c. This was the expedient of the Parliament of Edward the 
Second. 

The necessities of the state during the wars that began in the year 1 793 have brought 
the science of political economy into more general attention, and liave served, very 
forcibly, to display the merits of the two great instructors of our English ministers and 
reasoners, Hume and Smith. The public, however, have still much to learn ; and 
when our young men of rank and property have dismissed their academical pursuits, 
or rather whenever they have an opportunity, they should apply themselves to the 
study of political economy, the science of the prosperity of mankind, a study of all 
others the most interesting and important. A young man of reflection may find that 
the principles of political economy partake of the nature of literature, as described by 
Cicero, "moving along with him, let him go and do what he will, by night, by day, in 
the town, in the country," &c., &c. 



LECTURE VII. 681 

LECTURE VII. 

1819. 



It is m.any years since I drew up this lecture, and I now read with pleasure a note 
in Mr. Ilallam's Middle Ages, when trcatinj^ of tlie same period. 

"I would advise," says he, " the historical student to acquaint himself with these 
transactions [the Flemish insurrections], and with the correspond in jy tumults at Paris. 
They are among the eternal lessons of history; for the unjust encroachments of courts, 
the intemperate passions of the multitude, the ambition of demagogues, the cruelty of 
victorious factions, will never cease to have their parallels and their analogies ; while 
the military achievements of distant times afford, in general, no instruction, and can 
hardly occupy too little of our time in historical studies." — P.age 91, chap. i. part 2. 

Joinville and Froissart must be read for graphic representations of these and former 
times. 

II. 

At the accession of Philip de Valois, the great fiefs of Burgundy, Flanders, and 
Brittany were all that had not, in some way or other, been connected with the crown. 

III. 

The great founder of the French monarchy was Philip Augustus. He wrested from 
the English their possessions, then amounting to a third of the kingdom. 

IV. 

Wii.VTEVER the feudal system lost seems, in France, to have been acquired by the 
monarchy. The independence and sovereignty of the barons insensibly declined ; the 
jurisprudence of the country gradually passed into the courts of the sovereigns. 

The States-General were occasionally assembled, and appear to have represented 
the weight and authority of the whole community. In this body were found, as a dis- 
tinct part, the commons, the representatives of the cities and towns. 

If the ]iower that was flowing from the feudal system to the crown coidd have been 
in part inteiTcpted by the courts of law and the assemblies of the nation, the result 
would have been a free and mixed constitution. Such was the result in England from 
beginnings not more ]jromising. 

A comi)arison of the difterent circumstances that operated upon the constitutions of 
the two countries should i)e made by the student, as he reads the history. The Abbe 
de Mal)ly will be of great use ; and two notes in Robertson. See liis Charles the Fifth, 
notes 38, 39. 

V. 

HiSTORT-WS, with the exception of Tlume, are so ignorant of the modern science of 
political economy, — particularly all original historians, — that their narratives can be 
appealed to, on such subjects, only with the greatest circumspection. They state 
their facts, and generally add, without authority, such consequences as they conceive 
must of course have followed. Their relations are therefore filled with impossibilities. 

VI. 

French History. 

Vellt is the great historian of the early part of the annals of this great kingdom ; 
Villaret continued the work; afterwards Garnier: it has not yet reached the more in- 
teresting parts of the French history. Villaret is considered by Baron Grimm (a very 
competent judge) as one of those few writers who have been able to continue a work 

86 



682 NOTES. 

with more success than a successful predecessor. The ■work was paid by the volume, 
and probably thus rendered longer than necessary. 

Jacquerie. — There is a short account of this insurrection given by Froissart ; that is, 
some of the shocking facts are given. About the same time broke out the rising of the 
people under Wat Tyler. A more philosophic notice of these insurrections in France 
and England is taken by Hume. 

In these cases the people seem in their claims (not in their conduct) to have been right : 
they were endeavouring to throw off the state of villeinage, or at least some of the op- 
pressions of it. The subject, however, is of a general nature. The inequalities of con- 
dition, as they take place in society, have always a])peared to the lower orders an in- 
tolerable injustice. From reasonable views and claims, they have often proceeded to 
those that were not reasonable: and the grossest doctrines of liberty and equality have 
often made their appearance, as they always will, when the minds of the vulgar are in 
a state of fermentation. 

Yet it must be observed, that to men of refinement and sensibility, still more to men 
of sarcastic nature, the inequalities of condition seem so pregnant with evil, that the 
most affecting declamations, as in the works of Rousseau, have been produced by the 
contemplation of them ; while, in Swift and others, they have given occasion to the 
most piercing invectives under different disguises. 

In men of a more speculative turn (Godwin, for instance), they have urged men to 
the contrivance of political systems, and the most unreasonable impatience under every 
existing system. It cannot be doubted that from this source were derived most of the 
evils of the late French Revolution. 

Metaphysical speculation, at least that sort of philosophy which liopes and presumes 
whatever it pleases of human nature, and has a calm and persevering logic for ever at 
hand, — such speculation and philosophy were never silenced completely, till the refuta- 
tion of Godwin appeared in Mr. Malthus's first Essay on Population. 

Books like Godwin's, harmless and almost ridiculous as they may be in ordinary 
times, are no longer so when the times are of a different description. 

VII. 

Conquests in France, Sj-c. 

Self-estimation in a nation, as in an individual, is necessary to the virtue and 
dignity of the human character. But it is productive in each, sometimes of follies, 
sometimes of serious faults. It should be the result of slow and gradual inferences of 
the understanding, as much as possible; and not be, as it commonly is, a passion of 
the heart. 

In a nation, as in an individual, it leads to irritable jealousy, unaccommodating and 
offensive haughtiness, selfishness, violence, injustice. 

Its common direction is that of military glory ; and as far as such a principle is 
necessary to national defence and independence, it is indispensably requisite to a vir- 
tuous people. 

Far different has been its general operation, as seen in the history of mankind, as 
seen in the times of our Edwards and our Henries. The kings and heroes of our land 
were transformed into destroyers and oppressors. 

VIII. 

The work of De Lolme is too indiscriminate a panegyric on the English constitu- 
tion. But his great position is, in the main, not unreasonable : That the difterence 
of the constitutions of France and England is to be attributed to the original difierence 
in the power of the crown, — to the power of the crown being greater in England. 

In England, as the barons, however powerful, were far inferior to the king, a very 
large proportion of the whole landed property must have passed through the hands of 
William the Conqueror, and been granted on his own terms. They could not, there- 
fore, struggle against the crown for their own liberties without assistance, and without 
struggling at the same time for those of their inferiors. The whole community was 
thrown into one scale. 

There were many circumstances favorable to England, which the student must con- 
sider: he will find them in Millar, more particularly. 

The scene of the contest was an island, where the influence of commerce was likely 



LECTURE VII. 683 

to be soon felt, and the cities and towns become important. The necessity of a militaiy 
force constantly ready to oppose invasion was not so pressing, and the excuse for a 
standinji army not so plausible. England, being a country less extensive, did not so 
readily fall into great principalities; the union of the whole was more natural and im- 
mediate. The (lidercnt parts of the Parliament could sympathize with each other; and 
the wliole had thus a better chance to maintain its existence and autliority. 

The crown was not, as in France, transmitted from father to son for three centuries. 
Usurpations, disputed successions, &c., &c., were in England all favorable ; for whatever 
induced or compelled the wearers of the crown to make use of the Parliaments was fa- 
vorable. 

This is the general principle ; the detail may be seen in Millar ; the particular situa- 
tion of William Rufus, Hciuy the First, Stephen, &c., — all fiivorable to the existence 
and autliority of the Parliaments. Even in the civil wars the Parliaments wei'e ap- 
pealed to by each party in its turn. 

The danger, no doubt, was when the aristocracy had been consumed in the civil 
Avars, and Henry the Seventh and Henry the Eighth had not only the opportunity, but 
the ability, to seize all the authority that seemed now left without an occupant, or 
rather, to enforce and extend all the natural authority of the crown, when there was 
nothing left to oppose it. But the Parliaments had in the mean time got established, and 
their authority had become identified in the minds of the community with the nature 
of all just and legitimate government. 

The virtues as well as the vices of our kings tended, in a military age, to render 
them expensive ; and neither their domains nor exactions could provide for their follies, 
in the one instance, or their ambition in the other. Tliey had continually to summon 
Parliaments for fresh supjiiies. The nation was thus made wise (that is, jealous of the 
power of their princes) in the only way in which a nation can ever be made wise, by 
their own personal sufferings and inconveniences. 

It must be confessed that the Parliaments were on one occasion or another guilty of 
every crime which they could commit against their countiy, but that of parting with 
the right of taxation. Reason, justice, humanity, they disposed of to the strongest; 
but in defence of their property they united the qualities of the fabled beings of antiqui- 
ty, and had the eyes of Argus and the hands of Briareus. 

The primitive Hou'ie of Commons consisted of burgesses only. But the deputies 
from the counties, as being deputies, came in time to sit and deliberate along with 
them ; and these deputies were interested in the taxes that were to be paid by the 
landed gentry. The great barons and j)cers were great landed proprietors also. 

Tenths and fifteenths were taxes on private property, subsidies on i-eal and personal 
property. 

The great proprietors thus, fortunately, became interested in opposing the illegal ex- 
pedients of tlie crown for raising money from the subject ; and in the general manage- 
ment of the taxation of the community, no general assessment could be made without 
the concurrence of the re])resentatives of every species of property. 

The weaker house must have long derived considerable advantage from this connec- 
tion and common interest with the House of Lords. 

Nothing can be more amusing than to observe the language and feelings of terrified 
poverty with which the Commons approached their betters, as they would have been 
called, when money was wanted from them. 

In France, though the national assemblies or States-General expired, they could not 
be obliterated from its history. Some vestiges of their power still survived : among 
others, the registering of the king's edicts, which descended to the Parliaments, — not 
analogous to our Parliaments, but legal bodies, who claimed the exercise of this power 
in the absence, that is, during the interval of the sittings, of the States-General. 

Of this remnant of their power advantage was taken many centuries afterwards, in 
the late Revolution. So important are even the decayed forms of a free constitution ; 
or rather, so much does and must always depend on the spirit of the community, and 
the interpretation which the same things receive, according as that spirit does or does 
not exist. 

In Tacitus we see that the multitude took a part in the national councils. Even in 
these simple and rude times much difficulty and delay were the result. These as- 
semblies, in the progress of society, came naturally to be composed of the great landed 
proprietors ; afterwards of those who held benefices and fiefs. The common people 
were thus excluded. But when there arose in the community a new part of the popu- 
lation, which was neither vassal nor lord, nor came under any of the existing distinc- 



684 NOTES. 

tions, — still more, when a contrivance had presented itself (that of representation) by 
which the will of the people, or any free part of it, could be expressed as in the original 
assemblies, but without the original delay and difficulty, — it then became clear that 
an addition ought to be made to the existing national assemblies, whatever they might 
be, not only on grounds of civil expediency or natural right, but even of original pre- 
scription ; that is, the people were now, through the medium of their representatives, to 
be readmitted. 

Paragraphs are often to be found in Hume inconsistent with the general effect pro- 
duced by his History. At the end of his reign of Edward the Third, he sums up his 
general estimate thus: — "A great prince rendered the monarchical power predomi- 
nant. The weakness of a king gave reins to the aristocracy. A superstitious age saw 
the clergy triumphant. The people, for whom chiefly government was instituted, and 
who chiefly deserve consideration, were the weakest of the whole." '-Naturam expel- 
las furca," &c., &c. Hume, though a party writer, was still a man of humanity and 
good sense. 

The following specimen may be given of the discordance that often exists between 
different historians, — between Rapin and Hume, for instance. 

Mr. Hume, in his account of the deposition of Kichard the Second, and of the arti- 
cles of accusation exhibited against him, makes the following observation : — '" There 
is, however, one circumstance in which his conduct is visibly different from that of his 
grandfather [Edward the Third] : He is not accused of having imposed one arbitrary 
tax, without consent of Parliament, during his whole reign." 

But on turning to the History of Rapin, the fifteenth article of the accusation of the 
Commons, as there exhibited, expressly charges Richard with illegal impositions, — 
" Qu'il avoit impose des taxes sur ses sujets de sa seule autorite." 

The student is now desired to observe the extreme nicety which belongs to all in- 
vestigations of this nature, and to all quotations of historians. 

For another or second reader of history might now come and say, that Uapin had 
said nothing of the kind : that, on the contrary, the fifteenth article, as given by Rapin 
ran thus : — 

" Art. 15. Whereas the kings of England used to live upon the revenues of the king- 
dom and patrimony of the crown in time of peace, without oppression of their people ; 
that the same king, during his whole time, gave the greatest part of his revenue to un- 
worthy persons, and imposed burdens upon his subjects, granted as it were every year, 
by which he excessively oppressed his people and impoverished his kingdom, not em- 
ploying these goods to the advantage of the nation, but prodigally wasting them in os- 
tentation, pomp, and glory: owing great sums for victuals and other necessaries of his 
own house, though his revenues were greater than any of his progenitors." 

What is there here, the second student would say, of the king's imposing taxes on 
his own authority ? 

And while these two students might stand, each quoting Rapin, and appealing to 
the very books they had perhaps seen not an hour before, another and a tliird reader 
of history might also come forward and say that the first student was right; that he 
had just read the fifteenth article in Rapin's History, and that it was expressed as he 
had stated, and in the following words : — " That he had laid taxes upon his subjects 
by his own authority." 

What a perplexity and contradiction are here ! Yet it would turn out, upon exami- 
nation, tliat these three students or readers of history were, in a certain sense of the 
word, all right. 

For the first had quoted the folio edition of Rapin, given in the original French. 

The second had quoted the folio edition of Rapin, as translated by Tindal. But it 
happens, that Tindal very properly takes the trouble, on this occasion, not of translat- 
ing Rapin, but of translating the original articles of accusation from the Rolls of Par- 
liament; and tlie fifteenth article, when translated from the real original, gives not the 
words of Rapin, but runs to the length and exhibits the words, as presented by Tindal, 
" Whereas the kings of England," &c., &c. 

Finally, the tliird student might have been quoting the common octavo edition of 
Eapin in English, where the fifteenth article is not, as in Tindal's folio translation, a 
translation of the original Roll of Parliament, but a mere translation of the French of 
Rapin, the French of the first folio edition, which is wrong, and Rapin's own view of 
the case, — " Qu'il avoit impose des taxes de sa seule autoritfe." 

Supposing now, therefore, that recourse was had, after the example of Tindal, to the 
only real authority, the Rolls of Parliament (they are pubUshed with the Journals, and 



LECTURE YII. 685 

therefore easily accessible) ; and then the important words in the fifteenth article ■will 
be found to be these : — 

"Non solum magnara, immo maximam partem dicti patrimonii sui donavit etiam 
persouis indignis, verum etiam propterea tot onera concessionis subditorum imjwsuit quasi 
annis singulis in regno suo, quod valde et nimium excessive populum suum oppressit, 
in depauperationem regni sui," &c., &c. 

Now in these words, " tot oncra concessionis subditorum," &c., there is a sufficient 
obscurity to admit of a different interpretation by a Whig like Rapin, or a Tory like 
Hume, though the latter seems far more justified in his representation than the for- 
mer ; for it is the prodigality of the king, rather than tlie illegality of his conduct, that is 
evidently all throughout the articles the great burden of the accusation, — that he had 
wasted the money of the people of England, rather than that he had offended against 
their constitutional rights. 

There is a History of Louis the Eleventh, by Duclos, a work that was much noticed 
in France; but it seems to be justly observed by a late French writer (Chamfort), that 
it is written in a spirit lar too complaisant, very difterent from that with which the 
Memoirs of Louis the Fourteenth, &c., (by the same author,) are composed. 

The fact is, that the philosophy of the history of this reign (Louis the Eleventh) can- 
not be found in the work of Duclos. It is said, indeed, that it was the object of the 
reign to break down tlie power of the great, and to keep them from tyrannizing 
over the people ; which is probably what was said b)' Louis himself, for it is always 
said on such occasions. It is observed, too. that the royal authority has ever since been 
advancing by the motion which was impressed upon it by Louis the Eleventh. But 
the steps by which all this was done, and the consequences, are nowhere exhibited to 
the reader. 

Duclos, before his History went to publication, had to receive the approbation of a 
licenser ; and it was in vain, therefore, that he was competent both to write well and 
think well. 

Philosophical instruction must be still gathered from Comines, whose omissions 
Duclos intended to supply, as well as to correct his mistakes ; " though they are not 
commimly of great consequence," he tells us. Duclos had all the facts before him, and 
he gives them- 

Montesquieu is understood to have devoted much time to the subject ; but there is a 
strange story of his losing his manuscripts by an accident, and of his then abandoning 
all further thoughts of the work. 

Philip de Comines is the author read. Much of liis work, particularly the latter part 
of it, should be read. The important features of it are the fate of the house of Bur- 
gundy, and the unjust encroachments of Louis the Eleventh on the dominions of his 
neighbours and the constitution of his country. 

Comines came not into the service of Louis till he had been twelve j-ears on the 
throne. 

It cannot be now understood by what felicity of original temperament, or by what 
influence of reflection, the historian himself could be a lover of the people and a lover 
of virtue, though a courtier from his infancy, the servant of the most base and selfish 
of princes, and living in habits of business and society with many of the most licen- 
tious and unprincipled of men. 

'• Is there any king," he says, " or prince upon earth who has power to raise one 
penny of money, except on his demesnes, without the consent of the poor subject who 
is to pay it, but by tyranny and violence 1 " 

" King Charles the Seventh," he says, in another place, " has laid a great load both 
upon his own and the souls of his successors, and given his kingdom a wound which 
will bleed a long time ; and that was, by establishing a standing army." 

The manners of these dreadful times in France, during the factions of the houses of 
Orleans and Burgundy, and the reign of Louis the Eleventh, may be seen in Brantome ; 
and more convenientlv in Wraxall's Memoirs of the House of Valois. 



3f 



686 NOTES. 

LECTURES IX., X. 



Calvin, in his letter to the Protector Somerset, observes, after describing two sorts 
of troublesome people, Gospellers and Papists (probably), that both the one and the 
other ought to have the sword drawn upon them. "Alii ccrebrosi, sub Evangelii 
nomine ; alii in superstitionibus Antichrist! ita obduraverunt," &c. Of these he de- 
clares, — " Merentur quidem turn hi, tum illi, gladio ultore coerceri, quern tibi tradidit 
Dominus." — Page 67 of Calvin's Epistles, Geneva edit. 157.5. See Collier's Church 
History, Part ii. b. 4, page 284, edit. 1714. 

Bucer, writing to Calvin, says, — "At quomodo Servcto lernos haireseon et perti- 
nacissimo homini parci potuerit, non video." — Vide same edition of Calvin's Epistles, 
page 147. 

II. 

Intolerance. Written in 1810. 

It is generally supposed that it was only the bloody Queen Mary and Bishop Bon- 
ner who put people to death on account of their religious opinions", — that the Prot- 
estants were incapable of such enormities. 

This is not so, and Protestants should know it. Many were put to death in the time 
of the brutal Henry the Eighth. But there were some even in the time of Edward the 
Sixth, though not for Popery; more than one hundred and sixty of the Roman Catho- 
lic communion in the time of Elizabeth ; sixteen or seventeen in the time of James 
the First ; and more than twenty by the Presbyterians and Republicans. These are 
the facts. 

Arians and Anabaptists, for instance, were, some of them, actually burned. Puri- 
tans and sectarians were, some of them, hanged. These seem instances of direct and 
distinct intolerance. 

But with regard to others, sanguinary penal laws were made, and Papists executed 
under them, on supposed principles of state necessity. It remains, then, to be con- 
sidered how far this state necessity existed. 

Some of the particulars may be noted briefly hereafter, and they may serve to put 
good men on their guard against the workings of their own nature on all subjects con- 
nected with their religious opinions. But in the first place, in page 398 of Fuller's 
Church History, the text of King Edward's Diary is given. " May 2nd, 1550. — Joane 
Bocher, otherwise called Joane of Kent, was burnt for holding that Christ was not in- 
carnate of the Virgin Mary, being condemned the year before," &c. This is the text. 
Fuller himself ^\Tites a century aftei-wards, and his comment is this : — " An obstinate 
heretic, maintaining, &c., &c. She, with one or two Arians, were all who (and that 
justly) died in this king's reign, for their opinions." — "And that justly"! says Fuller. 

In Heylin's Church History, jiages 88 and 89, may be seen the particulars of this 
horrible transaction. Cranmer and Ridley were unhappily distinguished in it. The 
king was averse, and said Cranmer must be answerable to God, if he (the king) signed 
the death-warrant. 

George Paris was burned for Arianism on the 25th of April following, 1551. 

A further reference may be made to cases where no plea of state necessity could 
have been urged. Observe the conduct of Elizabeth and her advisers, or rather of 
Elizabeth, the daughter of Henry the Eighth. 

In page 549 of Collier's History, Volume ii., an account is given of the Anabaptists, 
taken from Stow. A conventicle had been discovered ; twenty-seven seized ; four were 
recovered, and brought to a recantation. The "damnable and detestable heresies" 
which they recanted were these : — " 1 . That Christ took not flesh of the substance of 
the blessed Virgin Mary. 2. That infants born of faithful parents ought to be re- 
baptized. 3. That no Christian man ought to be a magistrate, or bear the sword or 
office of authority. 4. And that it is not lawful for a Christian man to take an oath." 

Ten Dutchmen and one woman were brought into the consistory at St. Paul's, and 
condemned to the stake. The woman was recovered, and the government " was so 
merciful" as to banish the rest. This clemency giving encouragement, two of the 



LECTURES IX., X. 687 

same nation and heterodoxies were burned in Smithfield. Fox, the martyrologist, 
wrote a letter to the queen in their behalf, "to mitigate the rigor," "to change the 
punishment," "to respite the execution for a month or two, that k>arncd men might 
bring them off their heresy." A reprieve was granted ; Fox's expedient tried without 
success ; and they were theVefore burned. Tlie above account is abridged and given in 
the words of Collier. 

In Fuller's Church History, to which he refers, Book IX., page 104, edit. 16.55, Fox's 
letter is given; it does him the highest honor, all circumstances considered; it is tem- 
perate, conciliating, humane ; in a word, it is Christian. He observes, — "Erroribus 
quidem ipsis nihil possit absurdius esse, &c. ; sed ita habet humante infirmitatis conditio, 
si divina paululum luce destituti nobis rclinquimur, quo uon ruimus praicipites 1 " 
" Istas sectas, &c., idoncS comprimendas correctione ccnseo. Verum enim vero igni- 
bus ac flammis pice ac suljihure iBstuantibus viva miserorum corpora torrefacere ju- 
dicii magis caicitate quam impetu voluntatis errantium, durum istud ac l.omani magis 
exempli esse quam Evangelicaj consuetudinis videtur." &c., &c. " Quamobrem, &c., 
supplex pro Christo rogarem. &c., ut vit;e, &c., miserorum parcatur, saltern ut horrori 
obsistatur, atque in aliud quodcunque commutetur supplicii genus. Stmt ejectiones, 
&c., sunt vincula, &c., &c., ne piras ae flammas Smithfieldianas, &e., &c., sinas nunc 
recandescere." 

The words that follow in Fuller are these (Fuller wrote in the time of the Common- 
wealth, and was a member of the Church of England) : — " This letter was written by 
Mr. John Fox (from whose own hand I transcribed it), very loath that Smithfield, 
formerly consecrated with martyrs' ashes, should now be profaned with heretics', and 
desirous that the Papists might enjoy their own monopoly of cruelty in burning con- 
demned persons. But though Queen Elizabeth constantly called him her Father Fox, 
yet herein was she no dutiful daughter, giving him a flat denial. Indeed damnable 
were their iinpii'ties, and she necessitated to this severity, wjio having formerly punished 
some traitors, if now sparing these l)las]diemers, the world would condemn her, as be- 
ing more earnest in asserting her own safety than God's honor. Hereupon the writ De 
hoiretico comburendo (which for seventeen years had hung only up in terrorem) was noAv 
taken down and put in execution, and the two Anabaptists burned in Smithfield died 
in great horror with crying and roaring." 

It may not be amiss to exhibit for perusal this horrible writ. William Sawtre was 
the first victim, in the time of Henry the Fourth, 1401. 

Form of the Writ De Hceretico Comburendo, from Fitzherhert's Natura Brevium, 2d Vol. 
p. 269, ninth edition. 

" The king, &e., to the mayor and sheriffs of London, greeting : "WHiereas the vener- 
able father Thomas archbishop of Canterbury, primate of all England, and legate of 
the apostolic see, with the consent and assent of the bishops and his brothers the suf- 
fragans, and also of the whole clergy of his province in his provincial council assembled, 
the orders of law in this behalf requisite being in all things observed, by his definitive 
sentence pronounced and declared William Sairtre (sometime chaplain, condemned 
for heresy, and by him the said William heretofore in form of law abjured, and him the 
said William relapsed into the said heresy) a manifest heretic, and decreed him to be 
degraded, and hath for that cause really degraded him, from all clerical prerogative 
and privilege, and hath decreed him the said William to be left, and hath really left 
him, to the secular court, according to the laws and canonical sanctions sot forth in this 
behalf, and holy mother the Church hath nothing further to do in the premises: we 
therefore, being zealous for justice, and a lover of the Catholic faith, willing to main- 
tain and defend holy Church, and the rights and liberties thereof, and (as much as in 
us lies) to extirpate by the roots such hei-esies and errors out of our kingdom of Eng- 
land, and to punisli heretics so convicted with condign punishment ; and being mind- 
ful that such heretics convicted in form aforesaid, and condemned according to the law 
divine and human by canonical institution, and in this behalf accustomed, ought to be 
burnt with a Intrning flame of fire, command you, most strictly as we can firmly en- 
joining, that you commit to the fire the aforesaid William, being in your custody, in 
some public and open place within the liberties of the city aforesaid, before the people 
publicly, bv reason of the premises, and cause him really to be burnt in the same fire, 
in detestation of this crime, and to the manifest example of other Christians: and this 
you are by no means to omit, under the peril falling thereon. Witness," &c. 

This writ was used nearly word for word by Elizabeth, when she put to death the 



688 NOTES. 

two Anabaptists in the seventeenth or eighteenth year of her reign. The writ may be 
readily seen by turning to Collier's Church History, in the tifteenth page of the preface 
to the second folio volume, edition 1714. This Protestant princess could sign the fol- 
lowing dreadful words : — 

" Nos igitur, ut zelator justitiffi, et fidei Catholicse defensor, volente.sque Ecclesiam 
sanctam ac jura et libertates ejusdem et fideni Catholicam manii tenere et defendere, 
ac hujusmodi h^reses et errores ubique (quantum in nobis est) eradicare et extirpare, 
ac h;i3retiros sic convictos animadversione condigna puniri, attendentesque hujusmodi 
hsereticos in forma prsedictA convictos et damnatos, juxta leges et consuetudines regni 
nostri Anglic in hac parte consuetas, ignis incevdio combiiri debere: Vobis priBcipimus 
quod dictos Johannem Peters et Henricum Turwert, in custodia vestrA existentes, apud 
West Smithfield in loco publico et aperto, ex causti prajmissa, coram populo igni committi, 
ac ipsos Johaimem Peters et Henricum Turwert in eodem igne realiter comburi facialis, 
in hujusmodi criminis detestationem, aliorumqne hominum exemplum, ne in simile crimen 
labantur, et hoc sub periculo incumbenti nuUatenus omittatis. 

" Teste regina apud Gorambury decimo quinto die Julii. 

"Per ipsam reginam. 

"Elizabeth." 

Such are the facts. There is here no terror of Papists, — of men intending by mobs 
to overthrow the government. The case is simply a case of intolerance ; and thus, 
though every consideration, that should have influenced the understanding and aifected 
the feelings of Elizabeth and her counsellors, had been urged by Fox in the most un- 
obtrusive and respectful manner, " In igne realiter comburi faciatis," says the writ, '• in 
hujusmodi criminis detestationem." 

It is therefore impossible to impute the violent and sanguinary laws and executions 
of this reign to mere motives of state policy. The Roman Catholic writers do not 
make this mistake. Yet they do in their own instance. Father Parsons, in his lie- 
ply to Fox, " made it appear," as he supposed, " that many of them [the Protestant 
martyrs] died for treason; some were notoriously scandalous and wicked persons; 
others distracted, and no better than enthusiasts," &c., &c. These are his excuses. — 
Dodd's Church History, page 463. 

Observe now what these penal laws were, and what the horrible consequences. 

Elizabeth comes to the throne in 1558. In the fifth year of her reign she asserts her 
supremacy; it was made death to deny twice this supremacy. Now this supremacy of 
the Pope is a point of religious feith with the Roman Catholics ; Bishop Fisher and 
Sir Thomas More, as she and her Parliaments knew, died for it. No eifort was made 
to disentangle the civil obligations due to the sovereign from the religious obligation due 
to the Pope, as the head of the Roman Catholic Church, and the supposed immediate 
descendant and representative and vicegerent of Christ here on earth. 

On this account, from 1571 to 1594, were put to death twelve persons, seven gentle- 
men and five clergymen. Their names are given, page 320, part iv. b. 3, vol. ii., of 
Dodd's Church History. Dodd is the Roman Catholic historian. 

In the thirteenth year other reign, 1570, the bringing in of the Pope's bulls, or other 
superstitious things, was made death. In the twenty-third year it was made death to 
withdraw any from the established religion ; it was also made death to be so per- 
suaded or withdrawn. In the twenty-seventh year, 1585, Jesuits, seminary priests, and 
other such, were ordered out of the kingdom, and, if remaining in the realm, were to 
be punished with death, as were even those who harboured them. 

The result of acts like these was, that from 1581 to 1603 no less than one hundred 
and twenty of the secular clergy were put to death for exercising their sacerdotal func- 
tions as Roman Catholics. Their names are given in Dodd, page 321. Twenty-four 
suffered in the year 1588, the year of the Spanish invasion. Sixty of them, after that 
year, when all danger was at an end, and even the plea of state necessity no longer 
existed. 

Thirty-three different persons were put to death for entertaining and assisting priests 
of the Roman communion, yeomen and gentlemen. Twelve for being reconciled to 
the Roman communion. The names of all these appear in Dodd, pages 321, 322, 323. 
Three Jesuits also suffered for exercising their sacerdotal functions. Forty priests 
were banished in 1585, after having been condemned. Twenty (clergymen, gentle- 
men, and Jesuits) were condemned, and were either pardoned or died in prison, from 
the year 1581 to 1600. Their names are given. 

That is, on the whole, more than one hundred and sixty pei'sons were put to death 
in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, for being priests, or for acting as priests ; for harbour- 
ing priests ; for converting, or being converted ; lastly, for denying the supremacy. 



LECTURES IX., X. 689 

In May, 1579, Matthew Hammond, having first lost his ears for opprobrious lan- 
guage to the queen, was burned for blasphemy and heresy at Norwich. In 158.3, Elias 
Thacker and John Copping, Brownists, were hanged at Bury. John Lewes was 
burned at Norwich. Tliese and others arc clear cases of religious intolerance. 

The sanguinary and violent laws enacted in this reign, and not only enacted, but 
put into execution, are excused upon the plea of state necessity, — the tyrant's plea at 
all times, and not sufficient ; though these times, and Elizabeth's situation, were, no 
doubt, very peculiar. The Roman Catholics in Mary's reign, Bonner in particular, 
had excuses (such as they were) always ready, and talked of retaliation, though they 
were not burned at Smithficld as the Protestants were. 

The Protestants insisted that theirs was the true faith ; the Papists, that theirs was 
not only the true, but the ancient faith ; and in justice even to the Roman Catholics, 
bigoted and bloody as they were, it should be remembered that the Protestants were 
the assailants, that they were the innovators, the disturbers, the propagators of new 
opinions, &c. 

The Roman Catholics could always say to the Protestants, " Christ left his church 
behind him. What church but ours 1 Did not the church which Christ left begin to 
exist till the days of your Luther t " Such was their plausible language. 

But the subject of toleration was not understood. The offences of each party may 
be compared, and the atrocities of the one may be more tremendous than the cruelties 
of the other : — they certainly were. The guilt, however, of i)utting to death their fel- 
low-creatures must be shared by both, and should, though in ditl'erent degrees and to a 
different extent, be an eternal warning to ourselves of the original tendencies of the 
human mind on these subjects. 

" What could he more provoking to the court," says Collier (a nonjuror, but a Prot- 
estant), " than to see the queen's honor [Queen Mary's] aspersed, their religion in- 
sulted, their pi-eachers shot at in the pulpit, and a lewd imposture played against the 
government ? Had the reformed been more smooth and inoffensive in their behaviour, 
had the eminent clergy of that party published an abhorrence of such unwarrantable 
methods, it is possible, some may say, they might have met with gentler usage, and 
prevented the persecution from flaming out." — Collier, Part ii., b. 5, page 371. 

" The governors of the Church," says Heylin (a Protestant writer also), " exasperated 
by these provocations, and the queen [Mary] charging Wyatt's rebellion on the Prot- 
estant party, they both agreed on the reviving of some ancient statutes, made in the 
time of King Richard the Second, Henry the Fourth, and Henry the Fifth, for the se- 
vere punishment of ol)stinate heretics, even to death itself." — Heylin, page 47. 

"The heretics themselves," said Bonner, "put one of their own number [Servetus] 
to a cruel death. Is it a crime in us, if we proceed against them with the like severi- 
ty ? " — Heylin, page 48. 

" Heretics themselves," one of the Catholic tracts observed, " did not scruple burning 
Dissenters, when the government was on their side. Some Arians and Anabaptists, 
condemned to the fire by the Protestants, were no less remarkable for the regularity of 
their lives," &c., &c. — Collier, page 383. 

The truth is, no pleas of state policy, reprisals, &c., &c., are to be listened to. In- 
tolerance is at the bottom of all such proceedings, — intolerance, more or less, from 
the bloody writs of our ancestors, and their abominable fires in Smithficld, down to 
our own penal or disabling statutes against Dissenters or Roman Catholics, in Eng- 
land or Ireland. 

James the First died in March, 1625; became king in 1603. In 1612, Francis La- 
tham, a Roman Catholic, was executed on account of the supremacy. He distinguished 
clearly between the civil obedience which he owed James, his king, and the obedience 
which he owed his spiritual sovereign, tlie Pope ; but in vain. He was hanged at Ty- 
burn, December 5. The particulars of his examination and execution are instructive, 
but very disgraceful to the Bishop of London (lung) and the government. They are 
given, page 3G9 of Dodd's second volume. 

N. Owen, a gentleman of good account, was long confined in prison, and at last con- 
demned to die, for refusing the oaths of allegiance and supremacy. He suffered May 
17, 1615. — Dodd, page 427. 

William Brown suffered at York in 1605, " for being instramental in proselyting the 
king's subjects to the Roman communion." — Dodd, page 431. 

Robert Drury, Matthew Fletcher, and twelve or thirteen others, were put to death 
on different accounts connected with their sacerdotal functions. — Dodd's Church His- 
tory, page 525, and his references, 377, &c.; vide the Index. 

87 3f* 



690 NOTES. 

During the reign of Charles the First, and the time of the Eebellion, on account of 
their sacerdotal character, two suffered in 1628, one in 1634, one in 1641, six in 1642, 
two in 1643, three in 1644, one in 1645, four in 1646 and 1651, and two in 1654. — 
Vide Dodd, Vol. iii. page 172. 

These facts are very disgraceful to the Presbyterians and Republicans. Charles 
■would not have put Roman Catholics to death on account of their religion ; it is there- 
fore the Commons who must be responsible for these enormities. 

Charles the Second. — At page 356, &c., of Dodd, there are several very affecting 
speeches of those who suffered for Oates's plot. About seventeen were executed on 
account of it, most disgracefully. 

Nicholas Postgate, and seven others, suffered on account of orders in 1679. Four- 
teen others were condemned, but reprieved and pardoned. 

These horrible excciitions and condemnations must have been more or less occa- 
sioned by the insanity of the nation on the subject of Popish plots, more particularly 
Oates's plot. They show the nature, not only of intolerance, but of public alarms, 
popular cries, &c., &c. 

Tlic case of the Covenanters might next be referred to, — one, surely, of intolerance 
exercised by the more powerful sect. 

Judge Blackstone, in his 4th book, chap. 4, states the laws that so long remained in 
force against the Papists. " Of which," says he, " the President Montesquieu observes, 
that they are so rigorous, though not professedly of the sanguinary kind, that they do 
all the hurt that can possibly be done in cold blood. But in answer to this," says 
Blackstone, "it may be observed that these laws are seldom exerted to their utmost 
rigor; and indeed, if they were, it would be very difficult to excuse them. For they 
are rather to be accounted for from their history, and the urgency of the times which 
produced them, than to be approved, upon a cool review, as a standing system of law." 
This account and history of them he then gives, and at last ventures to say, that, "if a 
time should ever arrive, and perhaps it is not very distant" (this was written between 
the years 1755 and 1765), "when all fears of a Pretender shall have vanished," &c., &c., 
'• it probably would not then be amiss to review and soften these rigorous edicts," &c. 

The present reign (of George the Third) has been a reign of concession, that is, a 
reign of progressive civil wisdom and progressive religious knowledge on these sub- 
jects. The question is at length debated, among all i-easonable men, as properly a 
question of civil policy. The nature of religious truth and the rights of religious in- 
quiry are better understood than they were by our ancestors. These are held sacred, 
in theory at least. And therefore all that now remains to be observed is, that no real 
conversions can be expected to take place, while penal statutes or test acts exist : be- 
cause, while these exist, the point of honor is against the conversion. 

The members of the Roman Catholic or Dissenting communions will gradually be- 
come more and more like the members of any more enlightened establishment, in their 
views and opinions, when civil offices and distinctions are first laid open to them, but 
in no other way. Those of them who are of some condition or rank in life, or of su- 
perior natural talents, will first suffer this alteration in their views and opinions ; then 
successful mei'chants and manufacturers ; — and this sort of improvement will prop.agate 
downward At length the clerical part will be gradually improved in their views and 
opinions, like the laity. The outward and visible signs of the worship of the Roman 
Catholic or Dissenting communion may alter, or may in the mean time remain the 
same ; but the alteration in their minds and tempers will have taken place, sufficiently 
for all civil purposes, gradually, insensibly, and with or without acknowledgment or 
alteration in their creeds and doctrines. This is the only conversion that can now be 
thought of: an alteration, this, not of a day or a year, but to be produced in a course of 
years, by the unrestrained operation of the increasing knowledge and prosperity of 
mankind. Nothing could have kept the inferior and more ignorant sects and churches 
from gradually assimilating themselves to the superior and more enlightened com- 
munion, in the course of the last half-century, but tests and penal statutes, and all the 
various machinery of exclusion and proscription. 

But neither on the one side nor the other are the spiritual pastors and teachers to be 
at all listened to in these discussions. What is reasonable is to be done, to be done 
from time to time, and the event need not be feared. Statesmen will never advance 
the civil and religious interests of the community, if they are to wait till they can 
settle, in any manner satisfiictory to the Dissenting teacher and the Established Church- 
man, to the Roman Catholic and to the Protestant minister, their opposite and long- 
established claims and opinions, — claims and opinions from which it is the business 



LECTURE XII. 691 

of the statesman, as much as possible, to escape. I am speaking now of men as nilers 
of kinsdoms, not as individuals; siich men are not to take tlieir own views of religious 
truth for granted, and propagate it accordingly ; the state would thus necessarily be 
made intolerant. 

'• To overthrow any religion," says Montesquieu, (or, he might have added, any par- 
ticular sect in religion,) "we must assail it by the good things of the world and by the 
hopes of fortune; not by that wliich makes men remember it, but by that which causes 
them to forget it; not by that which outrages mankind, but by every thing which 
soothes them, and facilitates the other passions of humanity in obtaining predominance 
over religion." 

These notes were written in the year 1810, and placed on the table when the two 
lectures on the Reformation were delivered. Mr. Hallam published his History nearly 
twenty years after. He very thoroughly discusses the subject of the statutes of Eliza- 
beth's reign, and then sums up in the following words: — "It is much to be regretted 
that any writers worthy of respect should, either through undue prejudice against an 
adverse religion, or through timid accjuiescence in whatever has been enacted, have 
offered for this odious code the false pretext of political necessity. That necessity, I 
am persuaded, can never be made out. The statutes were, in many instances, abso- 
lutely unjust; in others, not demanded by circumstances; in almost all, prompted by 
religious bigotry, by excessive apprehension, or by the arbitrary spirit with which our 
government was administered under Elizabeth." — End of 3d chap, of his Constitu- 
tional History, pages 229 and 230 of 8vo edit, of 1829. 

At the end of the fourth chapter he observes, speaking of the Puritans : — " After 
forty years of constantly aggravated molestation of the Nonconforming clergy, their 
numbers were become greater, their popularity more deeply rooted, tlieir enmity to the 
estal)lished order more irreconcilable." He acknowledges the difficulty of the case, 
but observes " that the obstinacy of bold and sincere men is not to be quelled by any 
punishments that do not exterminate them, and that they were not likely to entertain 
a less conceit of their own reason when they found no arguments so much relied on to 
refute it as that of force. Statesmen invariably take a better view of such questions 
than churchmen." " It appears by no me.ans unlikely, that, by reforming the abuses 
and corruption of the spiritual courts, by abandoning a part of their jurisdiction, so 
heterogeneous and so unduly obtained, by abrogating obnoxious and at liest frivolous 
ceremonies, by restraining pluralities of benefices, by ceasing to discountenance the 
most diligent ministers, and by more temper and disinterestedness in their ovm be- 
haviour, the bishops would have palliated, to an indefinite degree, that dissatisfaction 
with the established scheme of polity which its want of resemblance to that of other 
Protestant churches must more or less have produced. Such a reformation would at 
least have contented those reasonable and moderate persons who occupy sometimes a 
more extensive ground between contending factions than the zealots of either are will- 
ing to believe or acknowledfre." 



LECTURE XII. 
I. 

The Edict of Nantes. 

The remonstrances of the Protestants were vain on the subject of tithes. But the 
king, by a brief promised to furnisli them annually with a certain sum, '• to be em- 
ployed," says the brief, " in certain secret affairs relating to them, which his Majesty 
does not think fit to specify or declare." They were also allowed (but by the secret 
articles) to receive gifts and legacies.* They were indulged, too, (twenty-second 
article,) in being eligible to offices in the universities,! and in sending their children 
fi-eely to the public schools. 

* That is, for the support of their relision : "Pour rentretenement des Ministres, Pocteurs, Ecoliers 
et pauvres de ladite Religion pretendue Reform6e, el auires causes pies." Art. XLII. — N. 

t A mistake. Neither the twenty-second article, nor any other part of the Edict, or of the secret 
articles accompanying it, contains any provision making Protestants "eligible to offices in the uni- 



692 NOTES. 

But so much more is necessary to the weaker sect than edicts or laws in their favor, 
that this very concession was afterwards made a pretext for preventing Protestants 
from teaching any thing in their own small schools but reading and arithmetic, " be- 
cause," said the Roman Catholics, "the children maj' be sent to our public colleges." 

Three Parliaments or courts of law were fixed upon, where the number of Prot- 
estant and Roman Catholic judges were to be equal : a necessary arrangement, it 
seems, to procure them the proper protection of the law. 

Protestant books were to be sold only where the religion was publicly exercised ; in 
other i^laces, after an imprimatur ; not in the metropolis, for instance. 

II. 

Low Countries. 

From tlie termination of the great struggle between the Low Countries and Philip 
the Second, inferences have been drawn more favorable to the practicability of resist- 
ance to oppression than the transactions, it is to be feared, will waiTant. Of the seven- 
teen provinces, though the condition of all must have been much ameliorated, seven 
only were emancipated from the Spanish j^oke. They who have to resist the regular 
armies of their tyrants can seldom be so situated as were the inhabitants of these mari- 
time provinces ; they can seldom be possessed of such fortified towns, and of a country 
so singularly impracticable to invaders. It is seldom that they can have a marine so 
powerful, and the commerce and the possessions, the very treasures of their oppressors, 
so exposed to insult and injury, to capture and ruin. It is seldom that an unhappy 
people can be found so justly infuriated and rendered so totally desperate by their par- 
ticular sufferings and their particular cause ; it is seldom that they can have been so 
fortunately educated, as were the Hollanders, to a sense of right, by the prior influence 
of a free government. 

Yet the policy of the case, as it respects the tyrant himself, or the superior country, 
is not altered. The oppressed country will always find support from the neighbouring 
powers ; great mistakes, like those of Philip, will probably be made ; illustrious de- 
fenders of their country will probably arise, produced by the occasion. Injury must at 
all events be received by the superior power. The most successful issue will but turn 
subjects into slaves, brothers into enemies ; and impair those principles of dignified 
obedience and reciprocal right between the governors and the governed, which exter- 
nally and internally, in the superior as well as the dependent state, are the only steady 
and effective causes of all real greatness and prosperity. 

The student is again recommended to turn to the debate in the Spanish council, 
given by Bentivoglio, on account of the similarity of the reasonings employed by our 
own statesmen in the contest with our American colonies. 



LECTURES XVm., XIX. 

1810. 



Claeendon relates of Charles the Second, that he came to him one day, when they 
were both together in exile, and asked him, with some astonishment, whether the penal 
statutes against the Catholics in England could possibly be such as they had been 
represented to him in conversation. The Chancellor was obliged to confess to him 
that they really were, and to endeavour to explain to him how and why penal statutes 
of this nature had been made. But it is probable that the humanity of the young 
king, not trained up under the discipline of polemical warfare, received an impression 

versities." The languase of the article referred to is as follows : — "XXIT. Ordonnons qii'il ne sera 
fait difference ne distinction, pour le regard de ladite Religion, a recevoir les Ecoliers pour etre instruits 
6s Universitez. Colleges et Ecoles, et les malades et pauvres 6s Hopitaux, Maladeries et auniones pub- 
liques." Histoire de I'Edit de Nantes, [par Elie Benoit,] (Delft, 1693,) Tom. i., Recueil d'Edits, etc., 
p. 68.— N. 



LECTURES XVIII. , XIX. G93 

in favor of the Eoman Catholics, careless as he was. which could never afterwards be 
removed. It is at the same time to be observed, that Charles was totally incapable of 
all severer virtue, and therefore that he recoiled from any description of relijrion which 
insisted on the purity of the heart and the triumphs of self-denial ; yet was his under- 
standinjj^ too penetrating to leave him undisturbed in the indulgence of his vices. He 
was therefore placed, as sometimes happens, within the reach of the two extremes of 
infidelity and superstition •. and in his hours of gayety believing nothing, and believing 
every thing, on the contrary, during those cold visitations of melancholy to wliich men 
of pleasure are so peculiarly exposed, he was, from the tirst, a fit sulycct for tbc influ- 
ence of the ceremonies and pretensions of the Roman Catholic Church. And from 
these and other considerations, it may be concluded that be came to England, and re- 
mained to his death, perfectly disposed to extend every kindness to the members of a 
Cburcii, with the sentiments, at least, of whose religion he could sympatliizc, and to 
whose communion, therefore, (for religious incjuiry into doctrines was out of the ques- 
tion,) he must have appeared to himself to belong. 

The king, therefore, and tbc Roman Catholics, saw with pleasure the Presbyterians 
totally excluded from the Establisliment, because they conceived, that, the greater were 
the numbers of those without the pale, the better would be their treatment; and that 
the Papists miglit thus come in with the rest to partake of the benefits of some general 
act of toleration. 

The Presbyterians, on the contrary, intolerant to a degree that would be perfectly 
ludicrous, if it were not for the serious nature of the subject, though they were ex- 
tremely exasperated when they found themselves so abhorred by the Church of Eng- 
land, could cordially unite with that Church in at least equally abominating those of 
the Roman Catholic communion. 

The Cburch, in the mean time, had perfectly resolved to avoid all fellowship with 
either. As, however, beneath the lowest deep there was yet a lower deep, they were 
always ready to accept the services of the Presbyterians against their common enemy, 
the Roman Catholics; so that in tliis respect the Cburch and the Presbyterians were 
united. But still further to ])erplex the scene, the Church of England had, like the 
Church of Rome, adopted the tenet of passive obedience, and was thus politically united 
with the Roman Catholics ; and therefore in this manner both were combined against 
the Presbyterians. 

After all the contests, therefore, which had taken place between the Papists and Prot- 
estants, and between the different sects of the Protestants, and after so nuiny years of 
civil and religious dispute, the prospect was still heavy with clouds ; the cnvil and re- 
ligious liberties of the country were still in a situation of trial and uncertainty ; and 
they niiglit have been for ever destroyed by the entire success of any one of the great 
pai-ties of the state, or even of some of their particular combinations. 

II. 

In the debates of the two houses the secret history of the times cannot now be dis- 
covered, but the proceedings of Parliament during the whole of this reign seldom cease 
to be im])ortant. 

Among other of their acts may be mentioned the Habeas Corpus Act. The nature 
of it must be examined in Blackstonc and our constitutional writers, and the conclusion 
to be drawn from the wliole of the case seems to be the extreme difficulty with wJiich 
the liberty of the subject can be secured; the endless train of impediments which they 
who administer tlie laws can, if they please, and will, if they are not prevented, throw 
in the wav of the proper execution of them ; and, on the whole, a new instance to show 
how v;iin is the letter of the law, unless a proper sense of propriety and right is gen- 
erated by the constitution through the great mass of the community. 

It might have been thought, that, before this celebrated act, enough had been done 
for the freedom of the subject; but not so: and an act like this, which only gives the 
subject, when thrown into prison, a power of asking the reason of bis commitment, 
such an act was declared by the Duke of York to be inconsistent with the existence of 
all regular government; though the very contrary seems the fact; for without it the 
liberty of no man is secure ; and the law is easily suspended, whenever the critical situ- 
ation of the country renders it necessary. " Nemo imprisonetur nisi," * &c., said the 

* The lan.sua^e of Ma?na Charta is, "N'iMus liber homo capiatur vel imprisonetur, &c., nisi per le- 
gale jutticiuiTi parium snorum vel per lesem lerrae." 17 Joliii, § 39; 1 Hen. III., §32; 2 Hen. III., §35; 
9 Heu. III., § 29. The Great Charter, &,c., ed. Blackslone (Oxford, 1759). —N. 



694 NOTES. 

barons in Magna Charta ; but it was not till the time of this act that their great piinci- 
ple was ever perfectly exhibited in practice. 

The very remarkal3le provision of law, called the Test Act, M^as the consequence of 
the very singular times of Charles the Second, — times when the reigning monarch 
was believed to be in a conspiracy against his subjects, and the immediate heir to the 
crown an enemy to their religion. By this act all were excluded from civil offices who 
took not the sacrament " according to the usage of the Church of England." And 
this religious part of the test was contrived as tlie only expedient for incapacitating the 
Papists, against whom the act was directed. The intention of the legislature was con- 
siderably answered. The Duke of York and other conscientious Roman Catholics re- 
signed their posts, though unprincipled men probably retained them. But another 
consequence followed, which was not Avithin the intention of the legislature : the Dis- 
senters, as well as the Papists, agreed not with the Church of England in their manner 
of taking the sacrament ; and the act has ever since operated to their exclusion from 
offices as completely as if they had been the objects against whom it was originally 
levelled. " Great pains," says Burnet, " was taken by the court to divert this bill. 
They proposed that some regard might be had to Protestant Dissenters, and that their 
meetings might be allowed. By this means they hoped to have set them and the 
Church party into new heats ; for now all were united against Popery. Love, who 
served for the city of London, and was himself a Dissenter, saw what ill effects any 
such quarrels might have; so he moved that an effectual security might be found 
against Popery, and that nothing miglit interpose till that was done : when that was 
over, then they would try to deserve some favor; but at present they were willing to 
lie under the severity of the laws, rather than clog a more necessary work with their 
concerns." — Burnet, Vol. i. p. 347. 

The conduct of the Dissenters seems to have got them great reputation. But when- 
ever a penal statute is to be drawn up, its enactments sliould be veiy strictly limited, 
and the future consequences of it be well considered. The Commons had provided by 
their Test Act for their own defence ; but the bill which they afterwards brought in, 
and which they passed for the case of the Dissenters, suffered amendments in the 
House of Lords ; and the Parliament was adjourned before these proposed alterations 
could be adjusted. In point of fact, it never afterwards became a law. The truth is, 
that the Commons should have provided for the case of the Dissenters in their original 
bill ; or, if that might have delayed its enactment, should at all events have insisted 
subsequently on justice being done. What they themselves neglected to do no subse- 
quent legislature ever did ; and the Dissenters at this moment find their feelings 
wounded, and the fair range of their talents confined, by an act of exclusion originally 
passed with the concurrence and cooperation of their own body. 

It is not in matters of government, as in other concerns, that a law or any political 
regulation may be put aside when its object has been accomplished. Such are the 
passions of mankind, that laws are seldom, nor can they always with safety be, either 
repealed or improved on the mere suggestions, however convincing, of argument and 
philosophy. Legislators should be, therefore, very careful how they ever suspend, even 
for a moment, the great principles of policy and justice. Their successors are always 
more likely to acquiesce in their faults than to repair them. This has been shown but 
too clearly by all the subsequent events of our history. 

When William the Third came to the throne, it was impossible for him to overlook 
the religious prejudices of his new subjects, and this most remarkable specimen of their 
unfortunate influence. His first attempt appears to have been to emancipate the Dis- 
senters from the Test Act. He took the earliest opportunity, in one of his speeches, 
to observe (184*), that "he was, with all the expedition he could, filling up the vacan- 
cies that were in offices and places of trust " ; that, " as he doubted not but they would 
sufficiently provide against Papists, so he hoped they would leave room for the admis- 
sion of all Protestants that were willing and able to sen'e." 

But when a bill was shortly after brought into the Lords, for taking away the neces- 
sity of receiving the sacrament prior to any admission to an office, it M'as rejected by a 
great majority, and the following protest against this decision of the House appears in 
its Journals, signed by eight lords : — 

"First, because" (page 196 of Cobbett's Parliamentary History, William and Mary) 
" a hearty union amongst Protestants is a greater security to the Church and State 
than any test that can be invented. 

* Cobbett'a Parliamentary History, Vol. v. It is proper to remark that the quotations wliich follow 
in thi.s and the subsequent paragraphs have been corrected by the original authorities, the Journals of the 
House of Lords. Cobbett ia inexact. — N. 



LECTURES XVIII. , XIX. 695 

" Secondly, Because this obligation to receive the sacrament is a test on Protestants 
rather than on the Papists. 

"Thirdly, Because, so long as it is continued, there cannot be that hearty and 
thorough union amongst Protestants as has always been wished, and is at this time 
indisj)ensably necessary. 

" Fourthly, Because a greater caution ought not to be required from such as are ad- 
mitted into offices than from the members of the two houses of Parliament, who are 
not obliged to receive the sacrament to enable them to sit in either house. 
(Signed) " Delamer. " Grey. 

" Stamford. " P. Wharton. 

"North and Grey. "J.Lovelace. 
" Chesterfield. " Vaughan." 

Another effort was made two days after; for it was proposed that it should be suf- 
ficient for any man to have taken the sacrament in any Protestant congregation, so that 
by this proposal the Protestant Dissenters were verbally and distinctly set apart from 
the Papists. But in vain ; the bill was still lost, and all the advantage which the cause 
of religious toleration obtained was tlie protest of six of the lords, wlio on this occasion 
placed on the Journals reasons that will for ever remain unanswerable, and may in 
time, it is to be hoped, produce their proper effect on the good sense and moderation 
of the community. 

These reasons are to be found page 197 of Cobbett's Parliamentary History. The 
first, fourth, fifth, and sixth are of a general nature, and will be easily conceived by 
those who have considered the question. 

" Pirst, Because it gives great part of the Protestant freemen of England reason to 
complain of inequality and hard usage, when they are excluded from public employ- 
ments by a law ; and also because it deprives the king and kingdom of divers men 
fit and capable to serve the public in several stations, and tliat for a mere scruple of 
conscience, which can by no means render them suspected, much less disaffected to the 
government. 

" Fourthly, Because it turns the edge of a law (we know not by what fate) upon 
Protestants and friends to the government, which iras intended against Papists, to ex- 
clude them from places of trust, as men avowedly dangerous to our religion and gov- 
ernment. And thus the taking the sacrament, wliieh was enjoined only as a means to 
discover Papists, is now made a distinguishing duty amongst Pi'otestants, to weaken 
the whole by casting off a part of them. 

" Fifthly, Because mysteries of religion and Divine worship are of Divine original, 
and of a nature so wholly distant from the secular affairs of politic society, that they 
cannot be applied to those ends ; and therefore the Church, by the law of the Gospel as 
w"ell as common prudence, ought to take care not to offend either tender consciences 
within itself, or give offence to those without, by mixing their sacred mysteries with 
secular interests. 

" Sixthly, Because we cannot see how it can consist with the law of God. common 
equity, or the right of any free-born subject, that any one be punished without a crime. 
If it be a crime not to take the sacrament according to the usage of the Church of Eng- 
land, every one ought to be punished for it; which nobody affirms. If it be no crime, 
those who are capable and judged fit for employment by the king ought not to be 
punished with a law of exclusion for not doing that which it is no crime to forbear. 
(Signed) "Oxford. " R. Montagu. 

"Mordaunt. "P.Wharton. 
"J.Lovelace. "Pagett." 

Tlie next attempt of the king was a bill of comprehension. As he could not relieve 
the Nonconformists while they remained such, he labored to induce the Church to en- 
large her pale, and by omissions and concessions to render it possible for the Dissent- 
ers conscientiously to join her communion. 

But the difficulty soon started in the House of Lords was, who were the proper per- 
sons to decide on these concessions, — a committee of the clergy, or a committee of 
the clen/ij and laity conjointly. 

Burnet tells us that he himself made a mistake (and a very egregious mistake it 
was), and that he argued for the former : the House decided with him ; that is, in favor 
of a committee of the clergy only. 

A protest was, however, again left on the Journals, though signed only by three. 



696 NOTES. 

Among other general and constitutional reasons for the interference of the laity in such 
subjects, the following one is given more particularly applicable to the case : — 

" Fifthly, Because, the commission being intended for the satisfaction of Dissenters, 
it would be convenient that laymen of different ranks, nay, perhaps of different opinions, 
too, should be mixed in it, the better to find expedients for that end, rather tlian clei'gy- 
men alone of our Church, who are generally observed to have very much the same way 
of reasoning and thinking. 

(Signed) " Winchester. 

" MOEDAUNT. 

"J. Lovelace." 

But tlie Commons were still more intolerant than the Lords, and an address soon 
appeared from them,* requesting the king to continue liis care for the preservation of 
the Church of England, whose constitution they told him was best suited to the sup- 
port of this monarchy, praying him to call a convocation of the clergy, assuring him, 
at the same time, that it was their intention to proceed to the consideration of giving 
ease to Protestant Dissenters. 

When tlie Convocation came to decide on the humane intentions of the king, the 
reasonableness of the protest of the lords was soon apparent. Burnet, in pages 1 1 and 
30, vol. ii., gives us some account of what passed both before and during these meet- 
ings. The more rigid " thought too much was ah-eady done for the Dissenters ; 

that the altering the customs and constitution of our Church, to gratify a peevish and 
obstinate party, was like to have no other effect on them but to make them more in- 
solent; as if the Church, by offering these alterations, seemed to confess that she had 
been hitherto in the wrong. They thought this attempt would divide us among our- 
selves, and make our people lose their esteem for the liturgy, if it appeared that it 
wanted correction." 

To these arguments, which may be considered as the permanent arguments on the 
subject, the bishop offers his reply, and then goes on thus: — "But while men were 
arguing tliis matter on both sides, the party that was now at work for King James 
took hold of this occasion to inflame men's minds. It was said, the Church was to be 

pulled down, and Presbytery was to be set up The Universities took fire upon 

this Severe reflections were cast on the king, as being in an interest contrary to 

the Church So tliat it was soon very visible," says at last the bishop, " that Ave 

were not in a temper cool or calm enough to encourage the further prosecuting such a 
design." 

This want of religious moderation, of which the bishop speaks, must be considered 
as a striking proof of the deep impression that had been made on the community by 
the civil wars and long habits of religious dispute; for at the time that the Declaration 
of Rights was becoming the acknowledged constitution of the country, at the time that 
England had advanced so far before the great rival country of France in all the doc- 
trines o{ civil libert)^, in religious liberty she was actually a century behind her; the 
twenty-sixth article f of the edict of Nantes, enacted by Henry the Fourth (the con- 
temporary of Elizabeth), admitted the Protestants to all civil ofBccs indiscriminately 
with their fellow-Christians, the Roman Catholics. 

The real ground on which these religious exclusions were and always have been de- 
fended is that of terror, — terror, lest the inferior sect, by obtaining political power, 
should, after a struggle for equality, contend at last for superiority. 

It is not very creditable to human nature to observe, that, when this terror is really 
felt, it operates in a contrary way. In the settlement of religious claims and differ- 
ences, the inferior sect often gains something from the fears, but never from the gener- 
osity, of the superior. The Protestants, for instance, had waged a long and desperate 
civil war with the Roman Catholics in France, and the terror which they reallij in- 
spired enabled Henry the Fourth to procure for them such of the terms of the edict of 
Nantes as are of an equitable nature. Similar effects have been more or less produced 
in other countries, on similar occasions of reconcilement and pacification, through all 
the periods of these dreadful contentions. Afterwards, when the Protestants ceased to 
be such objects of terror, Louis the Fourteenth could indulge his intolerance, and 
banish them from their country in a manner the most impolitic and cruel. 

In England, in like manner, had the Papists been at all competent to enter into a 

* This was a joint address of both houses. See Cobbett's Par!. Hist., Vol. v. 216-218; Journals of the 
House of Common.s, April 13, 16S9: Journals of the House of Lords, April 16, 1689. — N. 
t Article XX V11.—N. 



LECTURE XXn. 697 

contest oi force with the Protestants, there would never have appeared such a dreadful 
array of penal laws on our statute-books. The Scotch obtained from us, liy arms, 
their kirk. So, too, the Nonconformists in William's time would never have been ex- 
cluded from offices, or even from the jiale of the Church of England, if they had really 
inspired those apprehensions which their opponents afl'ccted to feel, or at least per- 
suaded themselves that they, on the wiiole, might as well act upon. 

In seasons of real terror, religious factions either conciliate or positively murder and 
destroy each other, as in the pacifications with the Huguenots, and the massacres of 
France and Ireland. It is in intervals of comparative repose and of considerable se- 
curity that the superior sect suffers its malignity calmly to expand into penal statutes, 
sweeping accusations, and ungenerous suspicions, — into arguments that admit not of 
answer (because they turn upon their own feelings and apprehensions), and into amus- 
ing exhortations to the inferior sect " to wait for better times," &c., &c. 



LECTURE XXn. 



Reporting of Debates. 

In 1694, one Dyer, a news-letter writer, having presumed in his news-letter to take 
notice of the proceedings of the House, he was summoned to the House, reprimanded, 
&c., and on the Journals appears the following order : — " That no news-letter writers 
do, in their letters, or other papers, that they disperse, presume to intermeddle with 
the debates or any other proceedings of this House." 

This most important subject somctintes occurs in the proceedings of the House, and 
should always be well observed. To this moment, it has never been regularly ad- 
justed. But on one of the greatest occasions of the late Mr. Pitt's eloquence the re- 
porters were fortunately excluded ; they very properly attempted not to give any idea 
of his speech. Mr. Sheridan, with his usual patriotic alertness on such occasions, was 
ready to take advantage of the public disa]ipointraent, and make some motion on the 
subject. But having been given to understand, and it appearing to be the general 
sense of the House, and of the ministers themselves, that no disturbance should be in 
future offered to the reporters, the motion was dropped. Not only had society im- 
proved, but the distresses and dangers of the country had shown the ministers of later 
times tlie necessity of keeping the public properly informed even on their own mea.s- 
ures, and therefore of reporting the debates. 

II. 

TnE proper adjustment of this delicate point — of the revenue of the crown — is one 
of the great features of what may be called the second jjart of our history. During the 
first part, prior to the Revolution, when the king, as the great executive magistrate of 
the realm, had to bear the expenses of the state by means of his own funds and the 
supplies he could extract from his Parliaments, not only was the welfare of the realm 
too immediately affected by the nature of his personal qualities, but it was impossible 
that the question should not give occasion to constant bickerings and jealousy between 
the king and his Parliaments. In ruder ages, the king, without much inconvenience 
or injury, might be considered as taking upon himself the charge and management of 
the great concerns of the state, and as wielding all the physical strength of the com- 
munity, for the defence, and even benefit, of the realm ; but that such a disjjosition of 
things should survive the causes which gave it birth, and should descend to so late a 
period, is only one proof among many how little of contrivance or regular adjustment 
there is in the affairs of mankind, and how governments, after their first rude forma- 
tion, are, at particular epochs, and in a most dangerous manner, tumbled and tossed 
into shapes of greater convenience by the unexpected and often violent operation of 
mere chance and change, rather than moulded into forms of symmetry and usefulness 
by reasonable alteration and timely improvement. 

88 3g 



698 NOTES. 

The subject of the revenue of the crown was finally settled early in the reio-n of 
George the Third, as may be seen in Blackstone. There arc, liowever, some sources 
of revenue that still very properly exercise the vigilance of patriotic members in the 
House of Commons during the time of war. 

III. 

The proceedings in Sir John Fenwick's case took place in the reign of William the 
Third, and are highly disgraceful to the Whigs. It is scarcely possible tliat bills of 
attainder should be otherwise than perfectly disgraceful to those who have recourse to 
them. They are the convenient, but coarse and savage, expedients of power; for bills 
of attainder take away the life of an offender by positive enactment, and that, because 
according to the existing laws he cannot be pronounced guilty. The bowstring of a 
sultan, or the execution of a tyrant, can do no more. In each case there is a departure 
from those known forms and antecedent provisions of law which are the only real pro- 
tection of innocence. Sir John Fenwick was, there can be no doubt, guilty of treason ; 
but it is to be feared that many who voted away his life, when the laws could not take 
it, voted from the basest motives, to remove out of hearing a man who knew and could 
have proclaimed too much. 

On this occasion, it is the arguments of the Tories only which we can read with 
pleasure. These men might have been taught, while they were using the generous 
maxims of government introduced to their understandings on this particular occasion, 
their cogency and their justice on every other occasion. 

" This bill," said the great Tory leader, Sir Edward Se}-mour, " is against the law of 
God, against the law of the land : it does contribute to the subversion of our constitu- 
tion, and to the subversion of all government ; for if there be rules to be observed in all 
governments, and no government can be without them, if you subvert those rules, you 
destroy the government. — The law enjoins forms strictly, even to the least circum- 
stance: men are not left to a discretionary power to act according to their con- 
sciences." 

" As to Sir John Fenwick," said Howe, another Tory leader, " though he should not 
be a good Englishman, yet his cause may be the cause of a good Englishman. — Your 
enemies, you say, will have an advantage, and your government is at stake : we sit not 
here to patch the failings of the one by an unwarrantable prosecution against the 
others." 

IV. 

LoED Clarendon's act of 1662, for the licensing of the press, &c., &c., was to be in 
force for two years ; it remained so ; it was then continued. It was again continued by 
James the Second in 1685, and enacted for seven years. It therefore existed at the 
Eevolution, and was left to continue until 1692, four years after the Revolution, and 
through all the sessions of the Convention Parliament. In 1692, when the Tories were 
in power, it was renewed for two years longer; but it then expired, in 1694. What, 
tJierefore, was then done by the Parliament ? 

It appears by the Journals of the Commons, that directions were given by the 
House to two of its members, at four different times from the years 1694 to 1698, to 
prepare a bill for the licensing of printing-presses, &c., &c. On one occasion, the Whigs 
seemed almost ready, from the irritation of the moment, to disgrace themselves by 
some bill of the kind. They, however, did not disgrace themselves. On another oc- 
casion, a bill of this soi't passed the Lords, and was even once read in the Commons. 
It was, however, lost on the second reading ; and the act of Charles the Second hav- 
ing expired in 1694, and having existed till the influence of the Revolution and the 
general progress of society had enabled men to discover its very objectionable nature, 
no efforts seem aftenvards to have been able to revive it, and it now remains on our 
statute-book only as a monument of that well-intentioned, but unenlightened, legislation 
which constitutes so important a part of the instruction to be derived from the perusal 
of history. 

I must observe, that I cannot find any detail of any debates connected with these 
proceedings. The Journals of the houses give nothing but the mere facts and results ; 
and such debates as have been published entirely fail us on this very interesting oc- 
casion. 



LECTURES XXIII., XXIV. 699 



V. 

The Act of Settlement was the last labor which William the Third contributed to 
the great cause of the Revolution. The heads of this act were prepared in a com- 
mittee, and we cannot now discover the different views of the subject that were taken 
by the statesmen of the time. This is to be lamented. The act seems to have given 
occasion to no debate in the houses. On the whole, it does honor to the Tories, who 
were then in power. Provisions were made against the consequences of a foreigner 
coming to the throne, though tlicy were not afterwards found to be complete. The 
laws of England arc pronounced to be the birthright of the people thereof The kings 
and queens, it is declared, ought to administer the government according to these laws. 
But in a manner somewhat strange, and not very systematic, there arc three con- 
stitutional points provided for, and not more : that those who have places and pensions 
should not be members of the Commons ; that the commissions of judges shall be made 
"quamdiu se bene gesserint"; and that no pardon under the great seal shall be im- 
pleadable to an impeachment. Descending into these particulars, it is singular that 
they proceeded no farther ; still more so, that they should incorporate the Place Bill (a 
bill so contested) upon this, the most solemn and important enactment, the disposal of 
the succession of the crown, which they could ever have to make. 



LECTURES XXIII., XXIV. 



Duke of Marlborough. 

I CANXOT avoid remarking that this illustrious man never had the advantage of a 
liberal education ; his son, indeed, the hope of his house, was admitted at this Uni- 
versity, was cut off in early life, and is buried in King's Chapel ; but he was himself re- 
moved at the age of twelve from the care of a clergyman, introduced to the patronage 
of the Duke of York, and from the first initiated in all the pleasures and political in- 
trigues of what was tiien a very unsettled and licentious court ; and though this educa- 
tion might certainly furnish the fine understanding of Marlborough with that quick in- 
sight into human character, and that thorough knowledge of the world, as it is called, for 
which he was so distinguished, it may surely be affirmed that the school in which he 
was thus bred up, even from his boyish days, was not likely to elevate his mind to a 
comprehensive view of the real interests of mankind, or to exalt his feelings above that 
love of personal consequence which is so strong a principle of' action in men of rank 
and fortune, and which it is only for letters and philosophy properly to soften and sub- 
due. 

It may be natural for those, who, like ourselves, are participating in the advantages 
of a regular education, somewhat to overstate its influence in fitting men to be states- 
men and the benefactors of their species. Such happy effects are not always visible in 
our young men of rank and consequence ; but many seeds must be sown to raise one 
flower so precious, and it may at least be said that men who have not liberalized their 
sentiments and enriched their minds at the proper season of advancing manhood by 
meditation and intellectual pursuits, and who, on the contrary, have put on early the 
harness of the world or of official situation, — such men, it may surely be said, are 
found invariably to fail on all great occasions, — on all occasions where objects of na- 
tional policy are intermixed with the great interests of human nature, — where wisdom 
is required, and not cunning. — and where the most generous magnanimity is, as on 
such occasions it always is, the soundest prudence. 



700 NOTES. 

n. 

Commercial Treaty with France. 

Another subject that excited a considerable ferment in the nation was the com- 
mercial treaty that had been attempted with France at the conclusion of the treaty of 
Utrecht. The principle of the treaty was, to ojien the trade between the two countries 
by removing as much as possible the reciprocal duties. But the merchants and trading 
companies took the alarm. The public opinion, by the assistance of the Whigs, over- 
powered the influence of the ministers, and the bill by which the eighth and ninth 
articles of the commercial treaty were to be sanctioned was lost. 

The ai-guments which prevailed on this occasion were, that in 1674 a committee of 
the most able merchants had considered the nature of our trade with France, and that 
it appeared we lost every year a million of money by it. Again, that we should lose 
our trade with Portugal by the preference given to the French wines ; and that the 
trade to Portugal was invaluable. 

These reasonings proceeded upon the supposition, that no trade with any country 
was beneficial, unless we exported to that country more value in goods than we im- 
ported, and consequently received the difference in money ; which was considered as 
the measure of the profit, and was called " having the balance of the trade in our favor." 
But the whole of this principle of the balance of trade has been sho-\vn by Adam Smith 
to be a mistake. 

It was also argued, that, since our Revolution, the French had set up the woollen 
trade, and no longer took our woollens, and we had set up the silk trade, and no longer 
took their silks ; and the inference was, not that both nations had done very unwisely, 
had each very improperly endeavoured to contend with the natural advantages of the 
other, and that the sooner a mistaken rivalship of this kind was at an end, the better ; 
but the inference was this, — that England had thus saved and gained vast sums of 
money, and had employed an infinite number of artificers, who would be reduced to 
beggary, if the importation of French goods were allowed, because the Fi-ench had 
their work done for less money, and consequently would sell their commodities cheap- 
er. — Cobbctt, 1212. 

I mention these particulars for the sake of recommending to your attention, as I have 
before done, the study of political economy, the writings of^ Adam Smith. 

Statesmen and nations may be distinguished for their knowledge of the great leading 
principles of civil and religious liberty; but they miyht also be distinguished for their 
knowledge of the great leading principles on which their agriculture and manufactures, 
their commerce, foreign and domestic, depend. Their progress, however, in the last 
subjects of reflection has been less than in the former ; for it so happens, that the first 
impressions and most natural conclusions of the mind on all such questions are er- 
roneous. The public, therefore, always have been, and must always be expected to re- 
main, liable to the most serious misapprehensions of their ultimate interests in affairs 
of this nature. In our own country, however, since the publication of " The Wealth 
of Nations," our statesmen, and all persons of regular education, have been rendered 
totally inexcusable, if tho}^ no longer understand the real principles of that production 
and that commerce, internal and external, which occupy so much of their thoughts and 
contribute so much to their enjoyments. 

It is quite necessary to observe, that those who are more particularly engaged in the 
business of our prosperity, our merchants and manufacturers, are little fitted by the 
habits of their lives for the comprehension of those abstract principles, distant views, 
and ultimate conclusions in which the science of political economy so peculiarly 
abounds; and it belongs more particularly to those who are men of influence and edu- 
cation to endeavour to comprehend, explain, and circulate the reasonings of philoso- 
phers on these im]5ortant subjects. They who engage, cither in private or public, in 
such meritorious labors will find reason enough for the exercise of their patience, and 
will often receive the greatest obstruction from those veiy persons who might have 
been expected, from the occupations of their lives, to be both able and willing to fur- 
nish them with every possible assistance. But as the progress of knowledge on these 
subjects has now been for some time distinctly visible, all such more intelligent men 
have full as much reason to be encouraged as any of their fellow-laborers in the service 
of mankind. 



LECTURES XXIII., XXIV. 701 

in. 

Hanover Papers, and Bolinghrohe's Letter to Wyndkam. 

The Hanover Papers for 1711 are interesting, as are the Stuart Papers for 1712, con- 
taining, among other particulars, the calumnies that were then propagated against Lord 
Somers, Prince Eugene, the Duke of Marlborough, &c., &c. 

The greatest difficulty with which the Pretender had to struggle seems to hare been 
his religion. The scheme in contemplation was, if possible, to call him over in the 
lifetime of his sistei-, Queen Anne, and in this manner to introduce him gradually to 
the throne. The Hanover Papers of 1713 are somewhat curious; so are the Stuart 
Papers of 1714. 

To each of these sets of Papers there is a sort of dissertation prefixed, which may al- 
ways be read. 

in the course of these Papers, the merit of Harley appears (340, 379) ; he seems to 
have been considered by the agents for the Stuarts as never entitled to their confi- 
dence ; and it is on this darkness and hesitation, and the probability that it arose from 
a secret wish to serve the house of Hanover, that the chief part of this merit must be 
left to depend. 

After these Papers have been consulted, Bolingbroke's Letter to Sir "William Wynd- 
ham should be read, not merely as a curious document from a most celebrated man, 
relative to the most important concerns of this period, but as one of the classic produc- 
tions of our literature, and as the best specimen of an exculpatory narrative that can 
be found in our language. No better model can be offered than this, to those who 
would wish to form a style of all others the best fitted for statesmen, whether speaking 
in the senate or writing in the closet ; the best fitted, because it is of all others the most 
adapted to convey information to the man of business, and delight to the man of real 
and matured taste : nothing superfluous in the ornaments, nothing unmeaning in the 
expressions ; the whole clear, natm-al, and easy, moving on with a rapidity which never 
slackens and a spirit which never languishes, and scarcely suffering the reader for a 
moment to reflect on the exact truth or propriety of the matter that is delivered. 

IV. 

Life and Conduct of the Duchess of Marlborough. 

This publication contains a detail, chiefly, of the duchess's merits with the queen: 
but it is still not without reference, and sometimes important reference, to the opinions 
of the times, and the changes that took place ; and it is valuable as giving incidentally 
a general notion of the intrigues of the court of Anne, during a very singular era of the 
English history. The style and thoughts indicate a clear, rapid, able mind, and are 
those of one bred in courts, and used to the world and its business. It is not favorable 
to King William, still less to Queen Mary, and shows very strongly the bias of Queen 
Anne's mind to the opinions and principles of the Tories. On the whole, it is not long, 
is sometimes important, and always entertaining. 



The Protestant Succession. 

" What party," says Hume, " an impartial patriot in the reign of King William or 
Queen Anne would have chosen, amidst these opposite views," — views which he 
states, — " may perhaps to some appear hard to determine." 

In the old edition of these Essays (the edition of 1754) may be found the following 
sentence, which involves a consideration which would have enabled any such impartial 
patriot to determine, without all the difficulty which Mr. Hume supposes : — " For my 
part," says Mr. Hume, '• I esteem liberty so invaluable a blessing in society, that what- 
ever favors its progress and security can scarce be too fondly cherished by every one 
who is a lover of human kind." 

This paragra])h ]\Ir. Hume afterwards thought proper to expunge ; thinking, per- 
haps, that it would appear but a literary flourish, coming from a writer who was con- 
sidered as the apologist of the Stuarts ; or losing, perhaps, as he grew older, that quick- 
ness of sympathy by which sentiments in favor of liberty are so happily rendered dear 
to us in all the earlier stages of our existence. 

3g* 



702 NOTES. 

LECTURE XXVI. 



" Sir Egbert Walpole, prime minister of Great Britain, is a man of ability, not 
a genius ; good-natured, not virtuous ; constant, not magnanimous ; moderate in the 
exercise of power, not equitable in engrossing it. His virtues, in some instances, are 
free from the allay of those vices which usually accompany such virtues : he is a gener- 
ous friend, without being a bitter enemy. His vices, in other instances, are not com- 
pensated by those virtues which are nearly allied to them : his want of enterprise is not 
attended with fi-ugality. The private character of the man is better than the public; 
his virtues more than his vices ; his fortune greater than his fame. With many good 
qualities, he has incurred the public hatred ; with good capacity, he has not escaped 
ridicule. He would have been esteemed more worthy of his high station, had he never 
possessed it ; and is better qualified for the second than for the first place in any gov- 
ernment. His ministry has been more advantageous to his family than to the public; 
better for this age than for posterity ; and more pernicious by bad precedents than by 
real grievances. During his time, trade has flourished, liberty declined, and learning 
gone to ruin. As I am a man, I love him ; as I am a scholar, I hate him ; as I am a 
Briton, I calmly wish his fall ; and were I a member of either house, I would give my 
vote for removing him from St. James's ; but should be glad to see him retire to 
Houghton Hall, to pass the remainder of his days in ease and pleasure." 

The above character of Sir Robert appears in one of the early and now scarce edi- 
tions of Hume's Essays. 

A character much more masterly and just is given by Mr. Burke, in his Appeal from 
the New to the Old Whigs. 

The beautiful lines of the poet are well known : — 

" Seen him I have, but in hia happier hour 
Of social pleasure, ill exchanged for power; 
Seen him, uncumbered with the venal tribe, 
Smile without art, and win without a bribe." 

II. 

I HAVE mentioned the speeches from the throne, and will give a specimen of them. 
In the speeches of George the First are found the following expressions : — 

" As none can recommend themselves more efltectually to my favor and countenance 
than by a sincere zeal for the just rights of the crown and the liberties of the people, so I 
am determined to encourage all those who act agreeably to the constitution of these my 
kingdoms, and consequently to the principles on which my government is foiinded." 

" To gain the hearts and affections of my people shall always be my first and princi- 
pal care. On their duty and loyalty I will entirely depend. They may as surely de- 
pend on my protection in the full enjoyment of their religion, liberty, and property." 

" You will make it your business to promote that perfect harmony and confidence 
between me and my people, which I most earnestly desire, and on which our mutual 
happiness entirely depends." 

The dignified language in which George the First addressed his people in 1722, 
when in expectation of a rebellion, has been properly remarked by one of our his- 
torians. 

" Had I, since my accession to the throne, ever attempted any innovation in our 
established religion ; had I, in any one instance, invaded the liberty or property of my 
subjects ; I should less wonder at any endeavours to alienate the affections of my peo- 
ple, and draw them into measures that can end in nothing but their own destruction. 

" But to hope to persuade a free people, in full enjoyment of all that is dear and 
valuable to them, to exchange freedom for slavery, the Protestant religion for Popery, 
and to sacrifice at once the price of so much blood and treasure as have been spent in 
defence of our present establishment, seems an infatuation not to be accounted for." 

One of the most singular circumstances that occiu-red during the reign of George 
the First was the introduction of the Peerage Bill by the ministers of the crown. 
This project originated in motives not the most creditable either to the favorite, Sun- 
derland, or the monarch, — inordinate ambition in the one, and mean jealousy of his 
son and successor in the other ; but it produced some noble passages in two of the 



LECTURE XXVI. 703 

king's speeches, which would have been indeed precious, if they had obtained a place 
there on any better occasion. 

" I have always looked upon the glory of the sovereign and the liberty of the subject 
as inseparable, and think it is the peculiar happiness of a British king to reign over a 
free people. As the civil rights, therefore, and privileges of all my subjects, and 
especially of my two houses of Parliament, do justly claim my most tender concern, if 
any provision designed to perpetuate these blessings to your posterity remains imper- 
fect, 1 promise myself you will take the first opportunity," &.C., &c. 

And again : — 

" If the necessities of my government have sometimes engaged your duty and affec- 
tions to trust me with powers of which you have always with good reason been jealous, 
the whole world must acknowledge they have been so used as to justify the confidence 
you have reposed in me. And as I can truly affirm that no prince was ever more zeal- 
ous to increase his own authority than I am to perpetuate the liberty of my people, I 
hope you will think of all proper metliods to establish and transmit to your posterity 
the freedom of our happy constitution, and particularly to secure that part which is 
most liable to abuse." 

This last extract is given by Coxe. 

In the speeches of George the Second expressions are always foiand, on every proper 
occasion, that intimate the desirableness of confidence and harmony between the peo- 
ple and the executive power, and that the interests of the two are inseparable. They 
should be looked at even on this account, if on no other. 

" I heartily wish," said the king, in his first speech, " that this first solemn declara- 
tion of my mind in Parliament could sufficiently express the sentiments of my heart, 
and give you a perfect and just sense of my fixed resolution by all possible means to 
merit the love and aftection of my people, which I shall always look upon as the best 
support and security of my crown. 

" And as the religion, liberty, property, and a due execution of the laws, are the 
most valuable blessings of a free people, and the peculiar privileges of this nation, it 
shall be my constant care to preserve the constitution of this kingdom, as it is now 
happily established in Church and State, inviolable in all its parts, and to secure to all 
my subjects the full enjoyment of their religious and civil rights." 

'The speech of the year 1734, preparatory to the dissolution of the Parliament, has 
been noticed by Mr. Coxe. If it was intended to do away any impressions that might 
have been made on the public by the speeches and writings of the adversaries of the 
minister, representing him as having planned a regular system of oppression, it was 
certainly well fitted for its purpose ; for no speech could be more worthy of an intelligent 
monarch and an upright minister, addressed to a free people. 

" The prosperity and glory of my reign," says his Majesty, " depend upon the affec- 
tion and happiness of my people ; and the happiness of my people, upon my preserving 
to them all their legal rights and privileges, as established under the present settlement 
of the crown in the Protestant line. A due execution and strict observance of the laws 
are the best and only security both to sovereign and subject ; their interest is mutual 
and inseparable ; and therefore their endeavours for the support of each other ought to 
be equal and reciprocal: any infringement or encroachment upon the rights of either is 
a diminution of the strength of both, wliieh, kept within their due bounds and limits, 
make that just balance which is necessary for the honor and dignity of the crown, and 
for the protection and prosperity of the people. What depends upon me shall, on my 
part, be religiously kept and observed ; and I make no doubt of receiving the just re- 
turns of duty and gratitude from them. 

" I must in a particular manner recommend it to you, and from your kno^vn affec- 
tion do expect, that you will use your best endeavours to heal the unhappy divisions 
of the nation, and to reconcile the minds of all who truly and sincerely wish the safety 
and welfiire of the kingdom. It would be the greatest satisfaction to me to see a per- 
fect harmony restored amongst them that have one and the same principle at heart, 
that there might be no distinction, but of such as mean the support of our present happy 
constitution in Church and State, and such as wish to subvert both. This is the only 
distinction that ought to prevail in this country, where the interest of king and people 
is one and the same, and where they cannot subsist but by being so. If religion, liberty, 
and property were never at any time more fully enjoyed, without not only any attempt, 
but even the shadow of a design, to alter or invade them, let not these sacred names be 
made use of as artful and plausible pretences to undermine the present establishment, 
under which alone they can be safe. 



704 NOTES. 

" I have nothing to wish, but that my people may not be misguided. I appeal to 
their own consciences for my conduct, and hope the Providence of God will direct them 
in the choice of such representatives as are most fit to be trusted with the care and 
preservation of the Protestant religion, the present establishment, and all the religious 
and civil rights of Great Britain." 

Even in the king's speech of 1737, after the murder of Captain Porteous, at Edin- 
burgh, and other circumstances of very great and just offence to the minister and the 
executive power, the expressions made use of were only the following, — perfectly rea- 
sonable and dignified, and worthy of the minister, and of the sovereign of a free peo- 
ple: — 

"My Lords and Gentlemen, — You cannot be insensible what, just scandal and of- 
fence the licentiousness of the present times, under the color and disguise of liberty, 
gives to all honest and sober men, and how absolutely necessary it is to restrain this 
excessive abuse by a due and vigorous execution of the laws. Defiance of all authority, 
contempt of magistracy, and even i-esistance of the law, are become too general, al- 
though equally prejudicial to the prerogative of the crown and the liberties of the peo- 
ple ; the support of the one being inseparable from the protection of the other. I have 
made the laws of the land the constant rule of my actions ; and I do with reason ex- 
pect, in return, all that submission to my authority and government which the same 
laws have made the duty, and shall always be the interest, of my subjects." 



LECTURE XXVII. 

The great French work of Forbonnais is the most regular treatise on the system of 
Law. Here will be found all the history of the system, and all the violent and unjust 
measures that were adopted to support it ; but the detail is difficult to understand, and 
after passing many hours over it, more than I can expect others to do, I can only ad- 
vise you, in the first place, to study well the chapters of Steuart. 

The treatise which Law addressed to the Parliament of Scotland is short, and may 
be met with ; it explains his objections to the use of the precious metals, and the man- 
ner in which he would have converted the whole fee-simple of the land into circulating 
medium. Scotland, and every other country, was, he conceived, suff'ering from the 
want of circulating medium, which was all that he thought was necessary to its pros- 
perity. Commissioners were, therefore, to be appointed to issue paper money on land 
security, &c. 

There is a certain portion of truth in Law's notions, sufficient to deceive him, as it 
had deceived many others. For while money flows into a country by the fabrication 
of paper money, the effect is beneficial ; it is beneficial while the money continues to 
flow, — no longer ; for every man, during this interval, receives a full return for any 
effbrt in industry that he can make ; the quantity of circulating medium has been in- 
creasing while he was making this effbrt, and he therefore receives more than he would 
otherwise have done. But the moment the tide stops, this high remunerating price 
stops also, and every opposite consequence arises ; and stop it must, if artificially pro- 
duced. 

The whole subject is very well explained by Hume, in his Essay on Money. 



LECTURE XXVIIL 
I. 

Highlanders, 

The work of Mrs. Grant might, with great advantage, be compressed into half its 
present size. What is told is not told in a manner sufficiently simple, nor is there 
enough told. Mrs. Grant pours out the sentiments and images of a warm heart and 



LECTURE XXIX. 705 

ardent mind, till they oveq)Ower the reader and lose their cfTect. Too ftxvorable au 
idea of the work, though a work of merit, would be formed from the Edinburgli Re- 
view. 

The points to be observed in the character of the Highlanders seem to be, according 
to this account by Mrs. Grant, their national spirit, language, habits, poetry, traditions, 
genealogies, their attachment to their chief, and their superstitions ; that tliey are war- 
like, musical, poetical, tender, melancholy, enthusiastic, superstitious, religious ; that 
they are patriotic ; secluded, themselves, aiid excluding others ; connecting and associ- 
ating tliemselves familiarly with death, and with the immaterial world ; seeing those 
they loved in the clouds, in dreams, and in visions ; skilled in the art of conversation, 
from the necessity of living with each other ; unfit for manufactures ; highly moral ; 
careful not to make imprudent marriages ; courteous, and, in a word, exhibiting all the 
vh-tues that result from living in the presence of each other. 

n. 

October, 18.39. 
I MAY recommend to others, what I have just had so much pleasure in reading my- 
self, the History lately published by Lord Mahon. All that need now be known of the 
era to which we have been adverting, from the peace of Utrecht to that of Aix-la- 
Chapelle, will be there found. It is on every account to be hoped that his Lordship 
will continue his historical labors. 



LECTURE XXIX. 

Miraheau's Work on Prussia. 

What I advise the student to do is, to look through the pages of Mirabeau, and 
from the midst of the details pick out the general remarks with which they are ac- 
companied. These i-emarks are of general application, and may therefore be valuable 
to the student, whatever may be the statements in the midst of which they appear. I 
will give a short specimen of what I mean. 

Certain details, for instance, are gone into with respect to some successfiil efforts 
made by the king to restore the population and prosperity of Pomerania ; and then the 
general remark is the following : — " But be that as it may, — clear away the waste 
land, make the air wholesome, augment the means of subsistence by a perfect freedom 
of all industry and commerce, and leave every thing else to Nature ; call in no stran- 
gers," — the favorite measure of Frederic, — " your o^vn people ^vill increase fast 
enough, if you allow them the proper means of subsistence. But if, on the contrary, 
you will scarcely let them have air to breathe in, grind them down by feudal services 
of day-labor and slavery, clog their industry, and choke and smother their commerce, 
your population must be kept down to the point which the weight of your cliains 
determines ; and vain is your gold, and your invitations to strangers to come and colo- 
nize." 

Now this is a remark perfectly just, and applicable to every possible case and situa- 
tion of society. 

Again, in another place (p. 389), the general remark is this : — "It is not the plenty 
of the circulating medium, or money, that enriches a people : it is the absence of all 
those systems, and all those oppressions, that can indispose men to labor ; the humanity, 
the policy, which prevents a state from tearing away from the people their money as 
soon as they have earned it. If you take from people their gains to pay your taxes 
and impositions, direct and indirect, how can they have a surplus with wliich to make 
improvements or better their condition ? what must become of your agriculture, and 
the population that belongs to it ? " 

Observations of a like general nature will be found with respect to the serfs ; to the 
proper circulation of property, — its transfer, for instance, from nobles, who ruin them- 
selves by extravagance, to those who accumulate fortunes by their industry and econ- 
omy. So, again, with respect to the Jesuits, and the difficult problem of managing the 

89 



T06 NOTES. 

province of Silesia, almost equally divided between the Catholics and Protestants, — 
the Catholics being at least not more than four to three. 

In one part, Mirabeau seems to have his mind too much monopolized by the merits 
of agriculture, by the system of his father. A town and its manufactures may enrich 
the neighbouring country by awakening and rewarding its industry ; and such has been 
the progress of things in the history of the world. It does not at all follow, that, for 
the establishment of manufactures, you must inevitably withdraw from a country the 
capitals that would be necessary for its agriculture. If it be, indeed, contended by 
Mirabeau, that the natural progress of affluence is in the contrary direction, and that 
agriculture is the first and great point to be secured, — that manufactures and splendid 
towns are properly the effect, rather than the cause, of prosperity, (as will hereafter be 
seen in America, though this has not been the course in Europe,) no objection need be 
made to his positions. But on this subject the partisans of the opposite systems seem 
each so occupied by the particular advantages they have in view, that they are scarcely 
willing to hear each other, or allow the mutual benefits which the commerce of the 
towns and of the country, that is, which manufacture and agriculture, are so fitted 
mutually to interchange, multiply, and consolidate. 

The management of the poor comes likewise in review ; and Frederic's notions, as 
well as Mirabeau's, may be considered in these volumes. That Frederic is wrong, 
there can be no doubt; but when Mirabeau arrives at his concluding remark, it ap- 
pears to be, that work ought to be offered for all who demand it. But I fear that this 
is the great difficulty of the case. The difficulty might be encountered, might be even 
submitted to ; that is, the community might think it good policy to employ people at 
a loss, rather than not have them employed at all. But the difficulty is itself, I con- 
ceive, insuperable. The notions of our own legislators, in the famous statute respect- 
ing the poor, in the time of Elizabeth, were the same as those of Mirabeau. The over- 
seers were expected to find work, — that is, I fear, whether it could or could not be 
found. 

The second book (that which is contained in the second volume) contains, towards 
the close, observations by Mirabeau of the same reasonable nature as before. The 
general conclusion is, that Frederic, after all, did not increase the population of his 
dominions. On the whole, the second book is very well worth reading. 

The third book relates to the agriculture and natural productions. Here, as befoi'e, 
it is the genei-al observations for which I should wish the student to look out. Such 
may occasionally be found. The book, however, is principally occupied in details, and 
the student will not have the patience to I'ead it. The same may be said, in general, 
of the fourth book, on manufactures. The details cannot now be appreciated, but the 
general observations may ; particularly the introduction, in which are laid down, very 
properly, on the principles of Adam Smith, those causes whicli impede, and those 
which promote, the progress of manufactures : liberty of every sort, moral, religious, 
physical; the general encouragement of science and knowledge. On the contrary, he 
protests against all exclusive privileges, all prohibitions on the export of the raw ma- 
terial, and on the export of the manufacture. He protests against all imjjosts on for- 
eign manufactures, all advances to manufacturers in the way of capitals, &c., &c. Ob- 
servations such as these are of a general nature ; they are not so thinly scattered over 
the fourth book as over the third. Linens, silk, and many articles give occasion to 
them. 

The fifth book is dedicated to commerce, and is opened by very striking remarks. 
A proper testimony is paid to our o^vn great writer, Adam Smith, and to Monsieur 
Mauvillon, the philosopher to whom, as I have already mentioned, Mirabeau has in 
this work been so much indebted. 

The system on which Mirabeau proceeds is the modem system, of perfect freedom ; 
and the mistake of supposing that the prosperity of a country depends on the favorable 
balance, as it is called, of trade, &c. 

There is, however, some inaccuracy, I conceive, or at least looseness of statement, 
in the general position which he lays down, — that commerce does not enrich a nation 
as it does the individuals who carry it on. Merchants who carry it on are of two 
sorts, — those who buy and sell on commission for other people, and those who are 
themselves entirely interested in their sales and purchases. It is only the last descrip- 
tion to which the term of merchant philosophically applies. And with respect to these 
last the observations of Mirabeau do not exactly hold ; the interest of these last and of 
the country is the same. Does the merchant, for instance, bring from another country 
an article Avhich he sells at home at a great price ? The event shows how much his 



LECTURE XXIX. TOT 

own country wanted the article ; that is, that he could not have been better employed, 
either for his own interest or the interest of the community. Does he, on the contrary, 
lose by his venture ? This shows that his own country did not want the article, and 
he could not have been worse employed. 

In other points Mirabcau's observations seem just, that every thing in a state is in 
reality commerce. The laborer traffics and sells his physical strength or intellectual 
powers, the farmer his produce, the manufacturer his goods to the merchant, the mer- 
chant to the consumer, &c. He holds, however, and very properly, that the intenial 
commerce is the great mark of the happiness of a community, which may be carried 
by that internal commerce to the greatest extent, and its exports and imports be com- 
paratively trifling; that is, its happiness, its internal health and strength, may, if fortu- 
nately situated ; but not, it must at the same time be observed, its external force or in- 
fluence. The case supposed is not likely to exist, but it is no doubt possible ; that is, it 
is not contrary to the nature of things. 

In this book will be found a very regular attack on the system of the balance of 
trade ; and JNIirabcau proceeds, as Smith would have done, to censure the various com- 
panies and monopolies which Frederic had the impolicy to allow, or to establish, — 
among others, the bank royal, to which Mirabeau makes forcible objections ; and he 
finishes, as he began, with striking and just remarks on commerce, merchants, and 
agriculture, the relative and absolute values of which, in these concluding pages, he 
seems to state with proper discrimination. The result is, according to Mirabeau, that 
the merchant in Prussia, as well as the manufacturer, is possessed but of a tottering 
existence ; that he is a sort of being springing up from the expectation of some assist- 
ance to be received from the monarch, or violently produced by the mere necessity 
which a man feels to make some attempt or other to gain a livelihood. 

The sixth book is dedicated to the consideration of the revenues and expenses of 
Prussia. It opens with stating and explaining the rights and claims which belonged 
to the king, derived to him from feudal principles. Some good observations follow 
on the subject of the coin of a country, and on taxes in general. On the subject of 
taxes, the particular notions of the system of the economists appear. Mirabeau is 
decidedly against all indirect taxes, — that is, taxes di-awn in the way of custom-house 
and excises, where the consumer pays the whole in the ultimate price, without being 
aware of it. His arguments appear to me not very satisfoctory. The case of England 
occurs to him ; his expressions are remarkable. " Cite not to me," he says, " the case 
of England, as you are continually doing ; for, not to mention the terrible consequences 
with which these indirect taxes threaten her prosperity and her liberties, are you not 
aware that the civil freedom which every man enjoys in that country remedies, atones 
for, and bears up against eveiy evil and disadvantage 1 that England, thanks to her 
situation and constitution, is no example on this occasion ? Can you, will you, give 
j'our own subjects the immense advantages which England enjoys "? " Such arc the 
words of Mirabeau. Our civil freedom, he evidently supposes, is the vital principle 
which enables the state to bear up against all its infirmities and diseases. 

Frederic's own ideas on taxes are justly considered by Mirabeau as not very distinct 
or profound. He created monopolies, — the worst of all taxes, — and then used to 
say, towards the close of his life, " Why should any one complain 1 I have never, 
through the wliole of my reign, imposed a new tax." 

Again, a terrible sort of board, consisting of French financiers, was formed for 
managing the excises. Every evil followed. After considering these evils, " Such," 
says Mirabeau, "have been the fruits of the administration of the rights and claims of 
Frederic ; and who can survey this melancholy picture," he continues, " without being 
overpowered by compassion for the people of Prussia ? without being overcome with 
indignation at the writers who have dared to vaunt and hold up to admiration the sys- 
tem of Frederic "? Let them not profane, with their unworthy incense, the tomb of a 
hero, — one who was great enough to admit of our allo^ving him to have been deceived, 
without any diminution of his glory; and who was too great not to make it necessary 
to unveil his faults, lest they should acquire an authority under the shadow of his great 
name." 

Mirabcau's remarks on the military force and resources of Prussia were very striking, 
and might have taught us, as I have already mentioned, in later times, important les- 
sons. There is a sort of prophecy of the movemeat of Bonaparte before the battle of 
Austerlitz. 



LIST OF BOOKS 

RECOMMENDED AND REFERRED TO IN THE LECTURES ON 
MODERN HISTORY. 



The shortest course of historical reading that can be proposed seems to be the fol- 
lowing : — 

First three chapters of Gibbon, and the 9th, for the Romans and Barbarians, &c. ; 
the chapters about Mahomet and his followers. Butler on the German Constitution ; 
the subjects there mentioned to be followed up in Gibbon. (1) 

Henault's or Millot's Abridgment of the History of France ; or the History of France 
lately published by D'Anquetil (not the Universal History) in 14 small 8vo volumes ; 
with the Observations sur I'Histoire de France by the Abbe de Mably, a book quite 
invaluable. Voltaire's Louis XIV., &c., &c., and Charles XII.; with the Memoirs of 
Duclos. (2) 

Robertson's historical works, with most of Coxe's House of Austria, and Watson's 
Philip the Second. (3) 

Hume and Millar. (4) 

Parts of Laing's Scotland ; Leland's Ireland. 

Burke's European Settlements. Belsham and Adolphus, — neither without the 
other. Historical parts of Annual Register. (5) 

Russell's Modern Europe may supply the rest ; and the volumes of the Modern Uni- 
versal History may be referred to, for accounts of every state and kingdom, — the best 
authors are mentioned in their margins. 

Priestley's Lectures should be looked at for the nature of historical authorities, 
&c., &c. 

For Chronology, there is a great French work, L'Art de verifier les Dates. Dufres- 
noy may be met with easily. 

This appears to be the shortest course of historical reading that can be proposed. 

But Adam Smith should also be studied, and the work of Mr. Malthus, with the 
works in morals and metaphysics. 

Of statesmen and legislators History and Political Economy are the professional 
studies, and are never to cease. 

(1) To these may be added, to make a Second Course, Koch on the Middle Ages, an 
excellent book, and Butler's Horae Juridicas, for different codes of law, &c. 

(2) To these may be added, Wraxall's Memoirs of the House of Valois, and Wraxall's 
History of France. 

(3) To these may be added, Harte's Gustavus Adolphus; parts of Roscoe's Lorenzo de' 
Medici, and more particularly parts of his Leo the Tenth ; with Planta's Helvetic Con- 
federacy. 

(4) To these may be added, much of Rapin, particularly from the death of Richard the 
Third ; parts of Clarendon, and Burnet's History of his own Times ; Cobbett's Parliamentary 
History, to be read in a general manner with Hume ; Macpherson's and Dalrymple's Orig- 
inal Papers ; with Fox's History of James the Second, and the Appendix. 

(5) To these may be added, Lacretelle's Histoire de France pendant le XVHL Siecle; 
afterwards his Precis Historique de la Revolution Francjaise. 

To all these may again be added, to make a Third Course, parts of Pfeffel, a book of 
great authority, — and of Sale's Koran, Mosheim, Neal's History of the Puritans, Fox's 
Martyrs ; and also Burnet's History of the Reformation, Ludlow, Life of Colonel Hutchin- 
son, Whitelocke. Harris's Lives of the Stuarts, &c., &c., will be found full of information ; 
and Somerville's History of William and Anne should be read, with Coxe's Sir Robert Wal- 
pole. 



LIST OF BOOKS. 709 



The books referred to in the Lectures, down to the end of the American "War, were 
the following. 

Csesar, Tacitus (De Moribus GermaniiB). for Romans and Barbarians ; with the first 
three chapters of Gibbon, and the 9th. Lindenbrogius, for Barbarian Codes ; Salique 
Code to be read. Baluze, for Ca])itularies. Butler on the German Constitution. 
Ditto, Horoe Juridicae. Ranken's History of France to be looked at. Gregory of 
Tours, in Duchesne. Heuault's Abridgment of the History of France. Millot's ditto. 
D'Anquetil's History of France. Abbe de Mably's Observations, &c. Pfetfel, for 
German History. Stuart's View of Society. Koch on the IMiddle Ages, of which the 
last edition, in 1807, is the best. 

In the Middle Ages the leading points are: 1st, Clovis (see Gibbon); 2d, Pepin 
(see ^lontesquieu) ; 3d, Charlemagne (Latin Life of, by Eginhard) ; 4th, Elective 
nature of the crown in Germany, and hereditary in France (Pfeffel and !MabIy) ; 5th, 
Temporal power of the Popes (Butler, — Koch. — Gibbon, 49th chap.); 6th," Feudal 
system (Montesquieu, but more particularly Mably, Robertson, Millar, and Stuart's 
View of Society) ; 7th, Chivalry (St. Palaye ; his work to be found in the 20th volume 
of Memoires de I'Academie) ; 8th, Popes and Emperors (Gibbon, — Koch, — Gian- 
none, 5th chap. 19th book); 9th, Hanseatic League, &c. (Pfeffel); and 10th, the 
Crusades (Gibbon). 

MAHOMET. 

Sale's Koran, — Preface of, and Preliminary Dissertation, with a few chapters of the 
Koran itself. Prideaux's Life of Mahomet is not long, but seems not very good. 
The Modern Universal History may be looked at. "soth chap., &c., of Gibbon. 
White's Bampton Lectures. Ockley's History of the Saracens to be looked at. 

FRENCH HISTORY. 

H6nault and Millot, and D'Anquetil's History, to be read ; and important subjects 
to be further considered in the great historians, Velly, Pere Daniel, — but Velly recom- 
mended, a work of great detail and value, continued by Villaret, and afterwards by 
Gamier, but not yet half finished. 

Robertson's Charles the Fifth, Introduction of. Smith's Wealth of Nations : the 
chapters in the 3d book, on Progress of Towns, &c., will give the student an idea of 
the progress of society in the Middle Ages. 

ENGLISH HISTORY. 

Tacitus's Agricola. Suetonius. AVilkins on Saxon Laws. Hume's Appendix. 
Millar on the English Constitution. Nicholson's Historical Library. Priestley's Lec- 
tures on History. De Lolme and Blackstone. Blackstone on the Charters to be 
read. Sullivan's Law Lectures, close of, for his observations on Magna Charts. 
Monkish historians by Twysden, Camden, Gale, &c. Lingard. 

SPANISH HISTORY. 

For the Moors, &c., in Spain, see Gibbon, chapters (in 5th vol. 4to) 51, 52, and a 
late work by Murphy. Mariana, the great historian, of whom there is a character in 
Gibbon, and a translation by Stevens. But the 16th and 17th vols, of the jModem 
History may be looked at, along with jMr. Gibbon's Outlines in the second volume of 
his Memoirs. Robertson's Introduction to Charles the Fifth. Then his Charles the 
Fifth, and Watson's Philip the Second. 

Pfeffel, from Rodolph to Charles the Fifth, may be looked at, and Coxe's House of 
Austria, with Planta's History, for the rise of the House of Austria, the Swiss Cantons 
and Helvetic Confederacy; and for Italy and the Popes, the 69th and 70th chapters of 
Gibbon will be sufficient. 

3h 



710 LIST OF BOOKS. 



FRENCH HISTORY, TO LOUIS THE TWELFTH. 

Abbe de Mably. Robertson's Introduction to Charles the Fifth, and three Notes, 
38, 39, 40. Parts of Philip de Comincs, for Burgundy and Life of Louis the Eleventh. 
Notes taken by Hume of the French history. 

ENGLISH HISTORY, TO HENRY THE EIGHTH. 

Hume's Reign of Edward the Third, pages 490 and 491, 8vo edit., compared with 
Cotton's Abridgment of the Records. Cobbett's Parliamentary History. Henry'.s 
History may be looked at, when Cotton, Brady, Tyrrell, Carte, cannot be consulted. 
Bacon's Life of Henry the Seventh. Monkish historians. Sir John Hay ward. Lin- 



REVIVAL OF LEARNING. — REFORMATION. 

Introduction to the Literary History of the 14th and 15th Centuries (Cadell, 1798) 
worth looking at, and not long. Mosheim's State of Learning in the 13th and 14th 
Centuries. Gibbon, chapters 53 and 66. Lorenzo de' Medici, parts of, and more 
particularly of Leo the Tenth, by Roscoe. 

Read the accounts of the Reformation, 1st, in Robertson's Charles the Fifth; 2d, 
history of Charles the Fifth, in Coxe's House of Austria ; 3d, in the two chapters of 
Roscoe's Leo the Tenth ; 4th, in the 54th chapter of Gibbon. Read the Introduction 
and first four chapters of Mosheim, in vol. 4 of our English edition ; second part of 
Mosheim's history of Lutheran and Reformed Churches : and lastly, the first part of 
Mosheim, more particularly the close of it, for the history of the Romish Church. 
Villers's Prize Essay on the Reformation, more particularly on the influence of the 
Reformation, and the Appendix on the political situation of the states of Europe. 
Council of Trent (Father Paul), 2d book, and latter part of the 8th. 

REFORMATION IN ENGLAND. 

For Wickliffe, see Henry's History of England, Neal's History of the Puritans, 
Fox's Martyrs, 3rd vol. of Mosheim, and Milner's Church History. Hume's ac- 
count of our Reformation should be read, — and the same subject in Robertson's His- 
tory of Scotland, and first Appendix in Maclaine's edition of Mosheim. Burnet's 
History of the Reformation should be read. Fox's Book of Martyrs, and Neal's His- 
tory of the Puritans, should be consulted; in Fox, the account given of Lambert, 
Cranmer, and Anne Askew may be sufiicient. M'Crie's Histoiy of the Reformation in 
Scotland should be referred to ; and there is a very good account of Luther in Milner's 
Church History. Lingard's History. 

CIVIL AND RELIGIOUS WARS IN FRANCE. 

Introduction to Thuanus or De Thou; then, the civil and ecclesiastical parts of 
the work that belong to the history of France ; the military part may be slightly read ; 
— the French translation is recommended. Brantome, parts of. Memoirs of Sully, 
parts of Wraxall's Memoirs of the House of Valois, and his History of France. 
Abbe de Mably. Edict of Nantes, 1st chapter of, for first introduction and persecution 
of Calvinism in France. Maimbourg's History of the League mentioned; but see 
Wraxall for the League. Esprit de la Ligue, by D'Anquetil (scarce book), partly in- 
corporated into his present 8vo History, of 14 vols. There is a new work by Lacre- 
telle, in two volumes, Histoire de France pendant les Guerres de Religion. 

HENRY THE FOURTH, OF FRANCE. 

Perefixe's Life. De Thou, Sully's Memoirs, Mably, and Wraxall recommended. 
Voltaire's Henriade. Fifth Book of Edict of Nantes, and the Edict, with the secret 
articles, to be read. 



LIST OF BOOKS. 711 



RELIGIOUS WARS IN THE LOW COL^^TRIES. 

Grotius, Bentivoglio, Strada, — original authors. Brandt's History of the Ref- 
ormation, a century after. Watson's Pliilip the Second, — all of it to be read, 
with the first four books and other parts of Bentivoglio. Bentivoglio, Strada, and 
Grotius to be read for the important period that preceded the coming of the Duke of 
Alva. 

For the Arminian Controversy, 18th and 19th books of Brandt's History of the 
Reformation. For the Synod of Dort, 33d book. Sec also other parts of chapters 41, 
42, 43, and Placard in 50tli book. Brandt's work can only be consulted. 

THIRTY YEARS' WAR. 

Harte's Gustavus Adolphus. Coxe's House of Austria. 

The leading points of this subject seem to be, — 1. Contest between Roman Catho- 
lics and Reformers to the Peace of Passau ; 2. Provisions of that Peace ; 3. Conduct 
of the Protestant princes; 4. Ditto of the House of Austria; 5. Elector Palatine; 
6. Gustavus Adolphus, &c.; 7. Campaigns of Tilly, &c. ; 8. Continuance of the con- 
test after Gustavus's death ; 9. Peace of Westphalia. 

Schiller's Thirty Years' War may be looked at ; but Coxe seems the best author to 
be read in every respect. 

ENGLISH HISTORY. — HENRY THE EIGHTH. ELIZABETH. JAMES 
THE FIRST. CHARLES THE FIRST. 

Herbert's Life of Henry the Eighth worth looking over. Kurd's Dialogue on 
Times of Queen Elizabeth' Miss Aikin's Memoirs of Elizabeth and James. Hume. 
Millar. Clarendon. Whitelocke. Ludlow. Life of Colonel Hutchinson. Parlia- 
mentary debates in Cobbett. History of Long Parliament by May. Rushworth's 
Collections. Nalson's ditto. Harris's Lives of James the First, Charles the First, 
Cromwell, and Charles the Second. Burnet. Laing's History of Scotland. Memoirs 
of Holies, of Sir Philip Warwick, and Sir John Berkley. Rapin always a substitute, 
in the absence of all others. 

First interval, from accession of Charles to the dissolution of his third Parliament in 
1629. Second interval, from 1629 to 1640. Third interval, from 1640 to the king's 
journey to Scotland in 1641. Fourth interval, from that journey to the civil war. 

Prynne's speech in Cobbett. Walker's History of Independency to be looked at, and 
the king's letters in Royston's edition of his Works. "Mis. Macaulay's History, very 
laborious, — unfavorable to Chai'les. 

CROMWELL. 

Conference at the end of Thurloe's State Papers, — a book which cannot be read, 
but may easily be consulted from a very good Index at the end. Ludlow, from the 
battle of Naseby, and pages 79, 105, and 135 of 4to edition, for Cromwell; and ditto 
Hutchinson, 287, 309, 340 ; and Whitelocke, 516 and 548. Sir Edward Walker's His- 
torical Discourses, — most of it in Hume. Noble's Memoirs of the Cromwells may 
. be looked at. Sir John Sinclair's History of the Revenue, for account of the expenses 
of the Long Parliament. Gumble's Life of Monk. Trial of the Regicides, short, and 
by all means to be read. 

CHARLES THE SECOND. 

Harris's Lives, — all these Lives by Harris full of information and historical research. 
Neal's History of the Puritans, — 4, 5, 6, 7 chapters of the second part, 2d vol. Walk- 
er's Sufferings of the Clergy. Part of Clarendon's Life. Burnet's History of his own 
Times. Macpherson's Original Papers, and Dalrymple's Memoii-s, vol. 2. 



712 LIST OF BOOKS. 



CHAKLES THE SECOND AND THE EXCLUSIONISTS. 

Andrew Marvell's Account of Bribery, &c., given in Cobbett. Ralph's History, most 
minute and complete, always to be consulted for Charles the Second and James. Ken- 
net's ditto, — mentioned as containing the king's Declaration or Appeal to the People. 
Sir William Jones's Reply, given in Cobbett. 

CHARLES THE SECOND. 

Memoirs of Comte de Grammont. Dryden's Political Poems, — Absalom and 
Achitopliel, &c. Hudibras, — Grey's Notes. Sermons and Public Papers of the 
Presbyterians. Laing's History of Scotland. 

REVOLUTION. 

Fox's History. Macpherson and Dalrymple. 

1st part of the general subject, — James's attack on the constitution and liberties of 
the country. 2d part, — Resistance made to him at home. 3d part, — Ditto from 
abroad, — 8th chapter of Somerville's History. 

For William's enterprise, Burnet's Memoirs. 2d Earl of Clarendon's Diary, from 
p. 41. Sir John Reresby's Memoirs.. Conference between the Houses, given in 
Cobbett. Somerville's History of William, &c. Ralph. D'Oyly's Life of San- 
croft. 

REIGN OF WILLIAM. 

Somer%nIle. Belsham. Tindal. Ralph. Burnet. Cobbett, 5th vol. Macpherson 
and Dalrymple. p. 3.31, vol. 9, Statutes, 8vo edit., for Triennial Bill, Biaekstone, 
chap. 11, vol. 4, for the liberty of the press, — and 8th vol. of Statutes, 13 and 14 
Charles II. chap. 33. Memoirs of the Due de St. Simon, and 7th and 8th of Boling- 
broke's Letters on History, for William's foreign politics. 

AMERICA. — EAST AND WEST INDIES. 

Robertson, Preface, with 5, 6, 7 chapters of the 1st vol. of Clavigero, and much of 
vol. 2, for Mexico. 2d vol. Churchill's Voyages, for Life of Columbus by his son. 
Italian collection of Ramusio, for original documents respecting America, &c. Second 
Letter of Cortes should be read, — there is a Latin translation of 2d and 3d Letters, 
very scarce. Bernal Diaz del Castillo should be read, — it is translated by Keatinge. 
Robertson's India. For Portuguese settlement, &c., in East Indies, see 57th chap, of 
Russell, and first three sections of 8th vol. Modern Universal History. For Brazils, 
Harris's Voyages, last edit., in 1740, is always quoted, differing from first editions en- 
tu'ely. For Dutch, &c., 33d chap. Modern Universal History, and 11th chap. Russell. 
For English, &c., Robertson's posthumous works, and first half of 1st vol. of Marshall's 
Life of Washington. Raynal, historical part of. Burke's European Settlements to 
he read. Hakluyt and Purchas, for first attempts of navigation, &c., — very curious 
and instructive. The latter volumes of Purchas contain original documents of the 
first conquerors, most of Las Casas's book, Mexican paintings, &c. 

FRENCH HISTORY FROM HENRY THE FOURTH TO THE END OF 
LOUIS THE FOURTEENTH. 

Lives of Richelieu and Mazarin, by Aubery, — Ditto of Richelieu, by Le Clerc ; but 
no good biographical account of those ministers. Many Memoirs with and without 
names ; amongst the best are those of Madame de Motteville, — Montpensier, — Cardi- 
nal de Rctz, — De Joly, son secretaire, — De la Rochefoucauld, — De la Fare, — De 
Gourville, — De la Fayette : out of these have been formed other works, not long, and 
always read, — Esprit de la Ligue, — L'Intrigue du Cabinet, — Louis XIV., sa Cour, 
et le Regent, by D'Anquetil, — and L'Esprit de la Fronde, an established work, not by 
D'Anquetil, as had been supposed. 

But for the times of Richelieu and Mazarin, see the chapters that relate to them in 
Russell, with those in the Modern Universal History, which will be sufiicient, when 



LIST OF BOOKS. 713 

added to those ia Voltaire, 175, 176 of his Essai sur les Moeurs, &c., with the Abbe de 
Mably; but L'Intrigue du Cabinet also may be added. For Louis the Fourteenth the 
great" work is Memoires du Due de St. Simon, published complete since the Revolu- 
tion. Louis XIV., sa Cour, et le Regent, should be read, and the Mcmoires de Du- 
clos, with Voltaire's Louis XIV. Le Vassor is aivork read and quoted in England, 
and may be consulted where the Huguenots are concerned. Edict of Nantes, part of 
22d and 23d chapters ; Edicts, &c., at the end of the 5th vol., should be looked at for 
Revocation of Edict of Nantes, &c. Fenelon's Tel^maque, parts of, for faults of Louis, 
and early appearance of present system of political economy. Lacretelle's late work, 
History of the Eighteenth Century, preparatory to his Precis of the late Revolution in 
France, a work well spoken of Memoirs of Madame de Maintenon, by BcaumcUe, 
though decried by Voltaii-e, still maintains its ground. 

WILLIAM THE THIRD. 

Somerville, on the whole, the best history of the reign we as yet have. Bclsham 
will furnish proper topics of reflection, Tindal the detail, and Ralph even more than 
Tindal. Burnet must of course be read. Cobbett will supply the debates. There 
are several important tracts in the Appendix to the 5th vol. of his rarliamentary His- 
tory. Macpherson and Dalrymple must be consulted. Some general conclusions, in 
the 21st chapter of Somerville, on Parties, &c., &c., seem objectionable. 

For foreign politics, sec Memoirs of St. Simon, Burnet, Hardwicke Papers, 7th and 
8th of Lord Bolingbroke's Letters on History. 

ANNE. 

Coxe's Austria. Eighth Letter of Bolingbroke. Torcy's Memoirs. Mably's Droit 
de I'Europe. Some chapters in the 3d vol. of St. Simon. Macpherson. Trial of Dr. 
Sacheverell. 

For the Union with Scotland, sec De Foe's History, a heavy 4to, — a book published 
by Bruce, under the direction of the Duke of Portland, at the time of the Union with 
Ireland, — Works of Fletcher of Saltoun. Cobbett's Parliamentary History and 
Somerville's account of the Union ^vill be the best to read, with the first hmidred 
pages of the third volume of Millar on the English Constitution. 

GEORGE THE FIRST AND SECOND. — SIR ROBERT WALPOLE. 

Coxe's Life of Sir Robert, and his Life of Horace Lord Walpole. Bolingbroke's 
Letters, and Letter to Sir William Wyndham. Horace Walpole against Boling- 
broke. Parliamentary Debates. Bolingbroke's Patriot lung, and Dissertation on 
Parties, to be compared with Burke's Thoughts on the Cause of the Present Discon- 
tents. London Magazine and Gentleman's Magazine. 

FRANCE. — REGENCY OF THE DUKE OF ORLEAIJS, etc. 

Memoirs of the Due de St. Simon. Last volume of D'Anquetil's Louis XIV., sa 
Cour, et le Regent. Memoirs of Duclos. L'Histoire of Lacretelle. — And for the Mis- 
sissippi Scheme of Law, look at Steuart's Political Economy. There is a great work 
on Finance, by Forbonnais, where the subject is thorouglily considered and is made 
tolerably intelligible. Adam Smith refers to Du Verney. — For South-Sea Bubble, 
see Coxe's Sir Robert Walpole, Steuart's Political Economy, Cobbett's Parliamentary 
History, Aislabie's Second Defence before the Lords, Report of the Address, &c., &c. 

KING OF PRUSSIA. 

Thiebault. Edinburgh Review of that work. Towers's Life of the King of Prus- 
sia. These will be sufficient for the general reader. 

Mirabeau on the Prussian Monarchy, particulai'ly the first vol. and last ; read and 
criticize the general observations in other vols, of the work. Nothing of an historical 
nature in the letters between him and Voltaire. 

The king gives in his own works an account of his own campaigns. Gillies's work 
is very indiflferent. 

90 3h* 



714 LIST OF BOOKS. 



TEANCE. — LOUIS THE FIETEENTH. 

The detail of the history of this reign would be but the history of the king's mis- 
tresses and their fevorites. The late work of Lacretelle, his Histoire de France pen- 
dant le XVIII. Siecle, will supply every information necessary for the general reader, 
and in a very agreeable manner. The financial disputes and the ecclesiastical disputes, 
both making iJ[3 the disputes between the court and Parliaments, ai-e the chief points, — 
these disputes, with the new opinions, imiting to pi-oduce the late French Revolution. 
The foreign politics may be gathered from Voltaire and Coxe's Austria, in a general 
manner. See also Duclos. 

PELHAM ADMINISTRATION. 

Scotch Rebellion in 1745, — History of it, by Home. The book not thought equal 
to his fome, but it tells all that need now be known, and is in many places very inter- 
esting. Melcombe's Diary. Belsham. 

GEORGE THE THIRD. — OPENING OF THE REIGN. 

Adolphus, Belsham, — neither without the other. Melcombe's Diary. Burke's 
Thoughts on Present Discontents. 

AMERICAN WAR. 

Speeches in the two Houses, — George Grenville, Pitt, Governor Pownall, &c., &c., 
— see Cobbett's Parliamentary History. Examination of Mr. Penn. Dean Tucker's 
Tracts Cthe third particularly), and his Cui Bono. Pamphlet by Robinson, brother to 
the Primate. Ditto, by Dr. Johnson, Taxation no Tyranny. Burke's Speeches. 
Dr. Ramsay's History of the American War. Annual Register. Paine's Common 
Sense. Paper to have been presented to the king, in Burke's Works. Gibbon's Me- 
moirs, — notices of the American contest in hi» letters. Bentivoglio, — speeches in 
the Spanish Council on the subject of the Low Countries, by the Duke of Alva, &c. 
Washington's Letters. Marshall's Life of Washington. Belsham and Adolphus, — 
neither without the other. Parts of the Works of Franklin, and of his Con-espondence. 
The great magazine of information is The Remembrancer, a work of 20 volumes, 
drawn up by Almon, an opposition bookseller at the time, and the Remembrancer 
therefore chiefly offers to the remembrance such speeches and documents as are un- 
favorable to the councils of Great Britain. Gordon, 4 thick 8vo volumes, full of facts, 
and impartial, but with no other merit. The legal history of the Colonies may be 
found in Chalmers, a book which may be consulted, but cannot be read. Stedman 
wrote a History of the American War, — an actor in the scene, and a sensible man, 
but with ordinary views. 



Many histories and many political subjects have been passed by ; but they who would 
look for more, or would think it advisable to turn aside from the course here proposed, 
may consult the volumes of the Modern Universal History, and they will find, either 
in the text or the references, every historical information they can well require. 

Catalogues of great libraries — the Catalogue, for instance, of the Royal Institution 
in London — will give the student an immediate view of all the valuable books that 
refer to any particular subject of his inquiry. 

Biography, though dealing too much in panegyric, is always more or less entertain- 
ing and instructive, often affording at the same time historical facts and traits of char- 
acter that are by no means without their importance, though they may have escaped 
the general historian ; these may also often be found in the histories of countries. 



Since this Syllabus was first drawn up, many works have appeared which should 
now find a place in it : — Hallam on the Middle Ages, — Sismondi, — Brodie, — vols. 
of Lingard's History, — more valuable editions of Clarendon and Burnet, — entertain- 



LIST OF BOOKS. 715 

ing and instructive works by Miss Aikin and Lord John Russell, — a work on the 
times of Charles the First and the Republic, by Godwin, — a valuable selection of 
the State Trials, by Phillips, — a most important work on the Constitutional History 
of this country, by Hallam, «&c., &c., — a history of our own Revolution, by a French 
writer, Mazure, and a history of the times of Charles the First, by Guizot, — a Short 
History of Spain, by Mrs. Calcott, — a continuation of the Histories of Hume and 
Smollett, drawn up with diligence and ability, by Mr. Hughes, of Cambridge, — valu- 
able publications by Coxc, Life of Marlborough, &c., — and a History of Ferdinand and 
Isabella, by Prescott, the American historian. 



On the subject of the French Revolution, the following works have been recom- 
mended as a sliort course : — Mignet, — Thiers, — Madame de Stadl, — Account of 
Revolution in Dodsley's Annual Register, — Histoire de la Revolution Francjaise, par 
deux Amis de la Libcrte. To these may now be added, Sir Walter Scott's first two 
volumes of his Life of Napoleon. 

Memoirs on the subject of the French Revolution are now publishing by the Ban- 
douin Freres at Paris. The following maybe more particularly mentioned : — Me- 
moirs by M. de Ferrieres, — Madame Roland, — Bailly, — Barbaroux, — Sur les 
Journees de Septembre, — Weber, — Hue, — Clcry, — Louvet, — Dumouriez, — Me- 
moirs and Annals of the French Revolution, by Bertrand de MoUeville, &c., &c. 

The Speeches of Mirabeau should be looked at, and Necker's Works, for the earlier 
periods of the Revolution. There is a democratic work by Bailleul, written in oppo- 
sition to the Considerations of Madame de Stafil. There is a Precis of the Revolu- 
tion, begun by Rabaut de St. Etienne and continued by Lacretelle. There is a usefiil 
work. Revue Chronologique de I'Histoire Fran9aise, from 1787 to 1818, by Montgail- 
lard, now expanded by the same writer into a regular history. There is a history by 
Toulongeon. 



A LIST 

OF SOME OF THE PRINCIPAL BOOKS RELATING TO THE 

HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES, AND OF 

THE RESPECTIVE STATES. 

PREPARED FOR THE AMERICAN EDITION. 



UNITED STATES. 

Oldmixon's British Empire in America. 2 vols. 

Douglass's Political and Historical Summary. 2 vols. 

Burke's European Settlements in America. 2 vols. 

Wynne's General History of the British Empire in America. 2 vols. 

Chalmers's Political Annals of the United Colonies. 1 vol. 

Marshall's History of the American Colonies. 1 vol. 

Force's Tracts and other Papers, relating principally to the Origin, Settlement, and 

Progress of the Colonies in North America. 4 vols. 
Trumbull's General History of the United States. 1 vol. Unfinished. 
Ramsay's History of the United States. 3 vols. 
Holmes's Annals of America. 2 vols. 
Hale's History of the United States. 1 vol. 
Grahame's History of the United States. 4 vols. Comes down to the Declaration of 

Independence. 
Bancroft's History of the United States : Colonial History. 3 vols. 
Pitkin's Political and Civil History of the United States. 2 vols. 
Lyman's Diplomacy of the United States. 2 vols. 

Gibbs's Memoirs of the Administrations of Washington and John Adams. 2 vols. 
Moore's Memoirs of American Governors. 1 vol. Unfinished. 
Monette's History of the Discovery and Settlement of the Valley of the Mississippi. 

2 vols. 
Perkins's Annals of the West, from the Discovery of the Mississippi Valley to the 

Year 1845. 1 vol. 

MAINE. 

Sullivan's History of the District of Maine. 1 vol. 
Greenleaf 's Statistical View of Maine. 1 vol. 
Williamson's History of the State of Maine. 2 vols. 

NEW HAMPSHIRE. 

Belknap's History of New Hampshire. 3 vols. Also an edition with Farmer's 

notes. 
Barstow's History of New Hampshire. 1 vol. 



VERMONT. 



Allen's History of Vermont. 1 vol. 
Williams's History of Vennont. 2 vols. 
Slade's Vermont State Papers. 1 vol. 



BOOKS ON AMERICA. 717 



MASSACHUSETTS. 

Hutchinson's History of Massachusetts. 3 vols. 
Minot's Continuation of Hutchinson. 2 vols. 
Bradford's Continuation of Minot. 3 vols. 

Baylies's Historical Memoir of the Colony of Plymouth. 2 vols. 
Young's Chronicles of the Pilgrim Fathers of the Colony of PljTnouth. 1 vol. ; com- 
prising several of the early tracts relating to the settlement of Plymouth. 
Young's Chronicles of the First Planters of the Colony of Massachusetts Bay. 1 vol. 

KHODE ISLAND. 

No regular History has been written. Many particulars concerning the early 
history are contained in the Collections of the Khodc Island Historical Society, in 
5 vols. 

CONNECTICUT. 

Peters's General History of Connecticut. 1 vol. Contains many inaccuracies ; the 

author -was either credulous or insincere. 
Tnunbull's Complete History of Connecticut. 2 vols. 
Bacon's Historical Discourses. 1 vol. 

NEW YOEK. 

Smith's History of New York. 2 vols. The 2d volume constitutes the 4th of tlie Col- 
lections of the New York Historical Society. 

Yates and Moulton's History of the State of New York. 1 vol. Unfinished. 

Macauley's History of New York. 3 vols. 

O'Callaghan's History of New Netherlands, or New York under the Dutch. 1 vol. 

Dunlap's History of the New Netherlands, Province and State of New York, to the 
Ado])tion of the Federal Constitution. 2 vols. 

Hammond's History of Political Parties in the State of New York. 2 vols. 

NEW JERSEY. 

Smith's History of the Colony of New Jersey. 1 vol. 

Gordon's History of New Jersey. 1 vol. 

Wliitehead's East Jersey under the Proprietary Governments. 1 vol. 

PENNSYLVANIA. 

Proud's History of Pennsylvania. 2 vols. 
Gordon's History of Pennsylvania. 1 vol. 

MARYLAND. 

Bozman's Sketch of the History of Maryland. 2 vols. Unfinished. 
McMahon's Historical View of the Government of Maryland. 1 vol. Unfinished. 
Hawks's Contributions to the Ecclesiastical History of the United States : vol. 2d, 
Maryland. 

VIRGINIA. 

Keith's History of the British Plantations in America. 1 vol. The first part only was 

published, which relates to Virginia. 
Beverley's History of Virginia. 1 vol. 

Stith's History of the First Discovery and Settlement of Virginia. 1 vol. 
Jefferson's Notes on Virginia. 1 vol. 
Campbell's (J. W.) History of Virginia. 1 vol. 
Campbell's (Charles) Introduction to the History of the Colony and Ancient Dominion 

of Virginia. 1 vol. 



718 BOOKS ON AMERICA. 

Burk's History of Virginia (continued by Girardin). 4 vols. 
Howison's History of Virginia. 2 vols. 

Hawks's Contributions to the Ecclesiastical History of the United States : vol. 1st, Vir- 
ginia. 

NORTH CAROLINA. 

Williamson's History of North Carolina. 2 vols. 
Martin's History of Noi'th Carolina. 2 vols. 
Foote's Sketches of North Carolina. 1 vol. 

SOUTH CAROLINA. 

Hewatt's Historical Account of South Carolina and Georgia. 2 vols. Also a recent 

edition with additional matter, edited by Mr. Carroll. 
Ramsay's Histoiy of South Carolina. 2 vols. 
Drayton's View of South Carolina. 1 vol. 

GEORGIA. 

Hewatt's Historical Account of South Carolina and Georgia. 2 vols. 

McCall's History of Georgia. 2 vols. 

Stevens's History of Georgia. 1 vol. Unfinished. 

KENTUCKY. 

Filson's Discovery, Settlement, and Present State of Kentucky. 1 vol. 

Marshall's History of Kentucky. 2 vols. 

Butler's History of the Commonwealth of Kentucky. 1 vol. 

TENNESSEE. 
Haywood's History of Tennessee. 1 vol. 

LOUISIANA. 

Du Pratz's History of Louisiana. 2 vols. Translated from the French. 
Stoddard's Sketches Historical and Descriptive of Louisiana. 1 vol. 
Marbois's History of Louisiana. 1 vol. Translated from the French ; relating par- 
ticularly to the cession of that Colony to the United States. 
Martin's History of Louisiana. 2 vols. 
Gayarre, Histoire de la Louisiane. 2 vols. 



Besides the above general works, many ti'eatises have been published upon detached 
portions of history, and also local histories. Tracts and articles of great value are con- 
tained in the Collections published by the Historical Societies of some of the States. 
The Historical Society of Maine has published two volumes ; New Hampshire, five ; 
Massachusetts, thirty ; Rhode Island, five ; New York, five, the last of which is very 
important in regard to the history of the Dutch settlements ; New Jersey, two ; Penn- 
sylvania, four ; Ohio, two ; Georgia, two ; Virginia, some tracts. 



AMERICAN REVOLUTION. 

Gordon's History of the Rise, Progress, and Establishment of the Independence of the 

United States. 4 vols. 
Ramsay's History of the American Revolution. 2 vols. 
Andrews's History of the War in America. 4 vols. 
Stedman's History of the American War. 2 vols. 
Warren's (Mi-s.) History of the American Revolution. 3 vols. 



BOOKS ON AMERICA. 719 

Marshall's Life ofWashington. 5 vols. 

Botta's History of the War of Independence of the United States. 4 vols. Translated 

from the Italian. 
Thachcr's Military Journal, during the American Revolutionary "War. 1 vol. 
British Annual llegister, from 1765 to 1783. The parts constituting the History of 

the American War were ^vl•itten ])rincipally, if not entirely, by Edmund Burke. 
Diplomatic Correspondence of the American Kevolution ; published by order of the 

Government, and edited by J. Sparks. 12 vols. Continuation to the adoption 

of the Constitution. 7 vols. 
Secret Journals of the Acts and Proceedings of the Old Congress. 4 vols. 
Madison's Papers, containing Letters and Sketches of Debates in the Old Congress, 

vol. 1st. 
Sanderson's Biography of the Signers to the Declaration of Independence. 9 vols. 

Second edition, in 5 vols. 
Sparks's Life and Writings of Washington. 12 vols. 
Sparks's Life and Writings of Franklin. 10 vols. 
Lee's Memoirs of the War in the Southern Department. 2 vols. 
Ramsay's History of the Revolution in Soutli Carolina. 2 vols. 
Drayton's Memoirs of the American Revolution as relating to the State of South 

Carolina. 2 vols. 
Moultrie's Memoirs of the Revolution in North Carolina, South Carolina, and Georgia. 

2 vols. 
Tai-leton's History of the Campaigns in the Southern Provinces of North America. 

1 vol. 
Hinman's Historical Collection, from Official Records, Piles, &c., of the Part sustain- 
ed by Connecticut during the War of the Revolution. 1 vol. 
Whiting's Rcvolutionaiy Orders of General Washington, 1778-82. 1 vol. 
Gilpin's Exiles in Virginia: with Observations on the Conduct of the Society of 

Friends during the Revolutionary War, comprising the Official Papers of the 

Government relating to that Period, 1777-78. 1 vol. 

Besides these works of a general character, there are many volumes of biography, 
written by different hands, giving an account of the lives of some of the principal 
actors in the Revolution, and throwing light upon important events. Among these 
are the memoirs of Jetlersou, Patrick Henry, Richard Henry Lee, James Otis, Quincy, 
Hamilton, Lafayette, Gen-y, Jay, Gouverncur Morris, Greene, Hull, John Trumbull, 
Joseph Reed ; and others in Sparks's Library of American Biography, in twenty-five 
volumes. Also, memoirs of the refugees. Van Schaack of New York (Life and Cor- 
respondence), Curwen of Massachusetts (Journal and Letters) ; with numerous others, 
in Sabine's American Loyalists. 



CONSTITUTION. 

Journal, Acts, and Proceedings of the Convention which formed the Constitution of 
the United States. 1 vol. 

Secret Proceedings and Debates of the Convention. 1 vol. 

The Federalist, written by Hamilton, Madison, and Jay. 1 vol. 

Elliot's Debates, Resolutions, and other Proceedings in Convention, on the Adoption 
of the Federal Constitution. 4 vols. Containing the Debates in the Conven- 
tions of the several States. 

Rawle's View of the Constitution of the United States. 1 vol. 

Story's Commentaries on the Constitution of the United States. 3 vols. 

Madison's Papers, published by order of the Government ; containing a Sketch of the 
Debates taken in the Convention which formed the Constitution, vols. 2d 
and 3d. 



CHEONOLOGICAL TABLE. 



This Table is principally confined to events mentioned in the Lectures. 



A. D. 

476. Rome taken by Odoacer. Extinction of the Western Empire. 

481. Clovis, King of the Franks ; founder of the Merovingian race. 

570. Birth of Mahomet. (Died 632.) 

622. The Hcgira. 

715. Charles Martel, Mayor of the Palace, governs all France. 

752. Pepin le Bref, King of France ; founder of the Carlovingian race. 

778. Battle of Roncesvalles. 

827. End of the Saxon Heptarchy. 

1066. England conquered by the Normans. 

1070. Feudal System introduced into England. 

1096. The First Crusade to the Holy Land, under Peter the Hermit. . 

1146. The Second Crusade. 

1160. The Albigensian heresy breaks out. 

1188. The Third Crusade, under Frederic Barbarossa, Richard the First, and Philip 

Augustus. 

1195. The Fourth Crusade. 

1198. The Fifth Crusade. 

1204. The Inquisition established by Pope Innocent the Third. 

1208. Crusade against the Albigenses, under Simon de Montfort. 

1215. Magna Charta signed by liing John. 

1228. The Sixth Crusade. 

1241. Hanseatic League formed. 

1248. The Seventh Crusade, under St. Louis. 

1264. The Burgesses first summoned to Parliament in England. 

1270. The Eighth Crusade. 

1273. Rodolph of Hapsburg, Emperor of Germany; first of the House of Austria. 

1297. Sir William Wallace defeats the English at Stirling. Is put to death, 1305. 

1307. Establishment of the Helvetic Confederacy. 

1314. Edward the Second defeated at Bannockburn. 

1320. Gunpowder invented by Schwartz, a monk. 

1346. Battle of Crecy, won by Edward the Third and the Black Prince over the 

French. 

1356. Battle of Poitiers. 

1372. WicklifFc preaches in England. 

1394. The Jews banished from France by Charles the Sixth. 

1415. Henry the Fifth invades Normandy; defeats the French at Agincourt. 

1415. John Htiss burned for heresy. 

1429. Joan of Arc compels the English to raise the siege of Orleans. 

1431. Henry the Sixth of England crowned lung of France. 

1436. Paris retaken by the French. 

1440. Invention of Printing. 

1453. Constantinople taken by the Turks. Extinction of the Eastern Empire. 

1485. Battle of Bosworth ; death of Richai-d the Third. 

1492. America discovered by Columbus. 

1513. Battle of Flodden. 

1517. Reformation in Germany begitn by Luther. 

1519. Francis the First and Charles the Fifth competitors for the Imperial throne. 

1529. Diet of Spires, against the Huguenots, then first termed Protestants. 



CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE. 721 

1531. Pizarro invades Peru. 

1534. The Reformation in England, in the reign of Henry the Eighth. 

1545. Council of Trent begins, which continued eighteen years. 

1548. The "Interim" granted to tlie Protestants by Charles the Fifth of Germany. 

1552. Treaty of Passau between Charles the Filth and the Protestant princes, for 

the establishment of Protestantism. 
1555. Pcligious Peace established. 
1560. Iveformation in Scotland under John Knox. 
1562. Beginning of the Civil Wars in France, between the Prince of Conde and the 

Uukes of Guise. 

1566. Revolt of the Netherlands from Philip the Second. 

1567. Duke of Alva sent to quell it. 

1572. Massacre of St. Bartholomew, August 24th. 

1576. The League in France, against the Protestants. William, Prince of Orange, 

declared Stadtholder by the United States of Netherlands. 

1579. Commencement of the Republic of Holland by the Union of Utrecht. 

1584. Prince of Orange murdered at Delft. 

1588. Duke of Guise assassinated. 

1589. Henry the Third, of France, assassinated by Clement. 

1590. Battle of Ivry, destruction of the League. 

1598. Edict of Nantes, tolerating Protestants in France. 

1610. Henry the Fourth assassinated by Ravaillac. 

1618. The Thirty Years' War begins, in Germany. 

1620. Bohemians defeated at Prague ; the Elector Palatine loses Bohemia. 

1625. First English settlement in the West Indies. Discord between Charles the 

First and the House of Commons ; Dissolution of his First Pm-liament. 
League of the Protestant princes against the Emperor. 

1626. Charles the First dissolves his Second Parliament. 

1629. Charles the First dissolves his Third Parliament. 

1630. Gustavus Adolphus enters Germany. 

1632. Gustavus Adolphus killed at the battle of Ltltzen. 

1638. The Solemn League and Covenant established in Scotland. 

1640. The Long Parliament in England meets. 

1641. Earl of Strafford beheaded. 

1642. Civil War in England begins. 

1645. Charles the First defeated at Nascby, June 14th. 

1647. Charles delivered up by the Scots. 

1649. Charles beheaded. Commonwealth begins. 

1650. Covenanters defeated by Cromwell at Dunbar. 

1651. Charles the Second defeated at Worcester. 

1652. First war between England and Holland. 

1653. Cromwell dissolves the Parliament; is proclaimed Protector, December 16th. 
1658. Richard Cromwell succeeds him. 

1660. Restoration of Charles the Second. 

1665. Second war with Holland. Great Plague- in London. 

1666. Gi-eat Fire in London. 

1672. Louis the Fourteenth conquers a great part of Holland. The Prince of Orange 
made Stadtholder. 

1679. The Long Parliament of Charles the Second dissolved. The Habeas Corpus 

Act passed. 

1680. Lord Stafford beheaded. 

1683. Rye-house Plot. Execution of Lord Russell, July 21st, and Algernon Sidney, 

December 7th. 
1 685. Revocation of the Edict of Nantes by Louis the Fourteenth. 

1688. Revolution in England. James the Second leaves the kingdom. 

1689. William and Mary proclaimed. Episcopacy abolished in Scotland by William. 

Battle of KiUiecrankie, July 27th; William defeated. 

1690. Battle of the Boyne, in Ireland, July 1st; James defeated. 

1692. French fleet defeated by the English at Cape la Hogue, May 22d. Battle of 

Steenkirk, July 24th ; King William defeated by Luxembourg. 
1695. Namur taken by William. 

1697. Peace of Ryswick, September 20th. 

1 698. First Treaty of Partition. 

91 3 1 



722 CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE. 

1701. Death of James the Second at St. Germain. 

1702. War of Succession against France and Spain, under Anne. 

1704. Battle of Blenheim, August 2d; the French defeated by Marlborough and 
Prince Eugene of Savoy. 

1706. Battle of Ramillies, May 1 2th; the French defeated by Marlborough. The 

Treaty of Union between England and Scotland signed, July 22d. 

1707. French and Spaniards defeat the Allies at Almanza, April 14th. 

1708. French defeated by Marlborough and Prince Eugene, at Oudeuarde, June 30th. 
1713. Peace of Utrecht. 

1715. Rebellion in Scotland, under James the Pretender. 

1716. Philip, Duke of Orleans, Regent of France. 

1719. The Mississippi scheme of John Law. 

1720. South-Sea scheme. 

1740. Charles the Sixth dies. War in Germany begins. 

1741. The Prussians masters of Silesia. 

1742. Peace between Austria and Prussia. 

1743. War in Germany, between the British, Hungarians, French, and Austrians. 

1744. War between Great Britain and France. 

1745. Louisburg and Cape Breton taken by the British forces, June 1 7th. Rebellion 

breaks out in Scotland, August. Defeat of the King's forces by the Rebels 
at Preston Pans, September 21st. 

1746. Defeat of the King's forces by the Rebels at Falkirk, January 17th. Battle 

of Culloden, April 16th. End of the Scotch Rebellion. 
1748. Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, between Great Britain, France, Spain, Austria, Sar- 
dinia, and Holland, October 7th. 

1756. The King of Prussia invades Saxony. Seven Years' War begins. 

1757. Battle of Prague, May 6th ; King of Prussia defeats the Austrians. The King 

of Prussia takes Breslau and becomes master of Silesia, December 20th. 
1760. English become masters of Canada, September 8th. 
1765. American Stamp-Act passed. Repealed the next year. 

1774. Boston Port-Bill passed. 

1775. Hostilities in America begin at Lexington, April 19th. Battle of Bunker's 

Hill, June 17th. 

1776. General Howe leaves Boston, March 1 7th. Independence declared, July 4th. 

Battle on Long Island, August 27th. New York evacuated, September 
15th. Battle at Trenton, December 26th. 

1777. Ticonderoga taken by Burgoyne, July 6th. Battle of the Brandywine, Sep- 

tember 11th. Philadelphia taken, September 26th. Battle of German- 
town, October 4th. Burgoyne's ai-my surrenders at Saratoga, October 
17 th. 

1778. Treaty between France and America, February 6th. 

1779. Stony Point taken by assault, July 15th. Expedition against the Indians 

under Sullivan. 

1780. Battle of Springfield, June 23d. French army arrives at Newport, July 10th. 

Defeat at Camden, August 16th. 

1781. Americans defeated by Cornwallis at Guilford, March 15th. Surrender of 

Cornwallis at Yorktown, October 19th. 

1782. Preliminary Articles of the Treaty of Peace signed at Paris, November 30th. 

1783. Peace between Great Britain and America ratified; Independence of America 

recognized, September 3d. 



TABLE 



THE CONTEMPORARY SOVEREIGNS 



ENGLAND, SCOTLAND, FR.\NCE, GERMAN V, RUSSIA, AND SPAIN, AND OF THE 

POPES. 

[From Sir Harris Nicolas's " Chronology of History," corrected by " L'An de rfirifier les Dates," etc.] 



England France 



Egbert 



Ethelwolf 



814 
816 
817 
819 
824 
827 

833 
836 
837 
840 
842 
843 
844 
847 
850 
855 
857 
858 Ethelbald& 

Ethelbert 
859 

860 1 Ethelbert 
862 
863 
866 
867 
871 
872 
876 



882 



Ethelred 
Alfred ' 



Charle- 
magne 
Louis I, 



Charles I. 



Louis II. 
Louis 111. & 
Carloman 



Germany 



Charle- 
magne 
Louis I 



Louis II. 



Carloman, 
Loui.sIII..& 
Charles II 



Louis 
I Cliarli 
Carloman ' Charle: 



Charles II. 
Hil?h 



Hush & 
Charles III. 



Charles III. 



Arnold 



II. & 

! II 
II. 



Papal States 



LeoEI. 



Stephen IV. 
Pascal I. 

Eugene II. 
Valentino 
Gregory IV. 



Sergius II. 
Leo" IV. 



Benedict III. 
Nicholas I. 



Adrian IL 
John Vm. 



Marin 

Adrian HI. 
Stephen V. 

Formosus 

Boniface VI. 

Stephen VI. 
Komanus 
Theodore II. 
John IX. 



RnssiA 



Rurili 



Igor I. 



Spain 



Alfonso II. 
Ovicdo 



Ramiro I. 
Oviedo 



Ordoiio I. 
Oviedo 

Garcia Xi- 
menes 
Navarre 



Alfonso III. 
Oviedo 



Fortun 
Navarre 



Scotland 



Congal m. 
Dongal 



Alpin 
Kenneth H. 



Donald III. 



Constantine 
[H. 



Hugh 
Grig & Eth 



Donald IV. 



724 



TABLE OF CONTEMPORARY SOVEREIGNS. 



A.D. 


England 


France 


Germany 


Papal States 


Russia 


Spain 


Scotland 


899 


. • • • 




Louis IV. 










900 


Edward the 
Elder 


.... 


.... 


Benedict IV. 








903 






.... 


LeoV. 








— 


.... 




.... 


Cliristopher 








90i 








Sergius III. 


.... 


.... 


Constantine 


905 




.... 







.... 


Sancho I. 
Navarre 


[lU, 


910 










.... 


Garcia 




911 




.... 


Conrad I. 


Anastasius III. 




Oviedo 




913 




.... 




Lando 








914 




.... 




Jolui X. 




Ordono II. 




919 


.... 


.... 


Henry I. 






Leon 




922 




Robert I. 












923 


.... 


Ralph 


.... 




.... 


Fruela H. 
Leon 




921 


Athelstan 


.... 






.... 


Alfonso IV. 
Leon 




926 


.... 


.... 


.... 




.... 


Garcia I. 
Navarre 




927 


.... 


.... 






.... 


Ramiro II. 




923 




.... 




Leo VI.' 




Leon 




929 


.... 


.... 




Stephen VII. 








931 








John XI. 








936 


.... 


Louis IV. 


Ot'hol.' 


Leo VII. 








939 


.... 






Stephen Vm. 








940 


Edmund I. 














942 


.... 


.... 




Martin in. 








944 


.... 


.... 






.... 


.... 


Blalcolm I. 


945 




.... 






Sviatoslaf I. 






946 


Ed'red ' 


.... 




Agapet II. 








950 


.... 


.... 


.... 




.... 


Ordono HI. 
Leon 




953 


.... 


.... 


.... 








Indulf 


954 


.... 


Lothaire 












955 


Edwy 




.... 






Sancho I. 




956 




.... 


.... 


Joliii'xil." 




Leon 




959 


Edgar ' 














961 


.... 


.... 


.... 








Duff 


963 




.... 


.... 


LeoVIlY* " 








965 




.... 


.... 


JohnXIU. 






Culen 


967 


.... 


.... 


.... 




.... 


Ramiro III. 
Leon 




970 


.... 


.... 


.... 




.... 


Sancho II. 


Kenneth m. 


972 




.... 




Benedict VI. 




Navarre 




973 


.... 




Otho'lf. * 




laropolk I. 






974 


• • . . 


. • . • 




Domnua II. 








975 


Edward the 
Martyr 






Benedict VII. 








978 


Eihelred II. 














980 




.... 


.... 




Vladimir L 






982 




.... 








Bermudo H. 




983 


.... 


.... 


otiiorii.* 


John'xiv. * 




Leon 




985 


.... 


.... 




John XV. 








— 


.... 


.... 




John XVI. 








986 




Louia V. 












987 




Hugh Capet 












994 




.... 


.... 






Garcia 11. 
Navarre 


Constantine 
[IV. 


995 




.... 


.... 


..... 






Kenneth IV. 


996 




Robert II. 


.... 


Gregory V. 






(the Grim) 


999 




.... 


.... 


Silvester II. 




Alfonso V. 
Leon 




1000 




.... 








Sancho III. 




1002 




.... 


Henry 11.' 






Navarre 




1003 




.... 




John xvn. 




.... 


Malcolm 11. 


— 






.... 


John XVIII. 








1009 


.... 


.... 


.... 


Sergius IV. 








1012 


.... 


.... 


.... 


Benedict VIII. 








1014 


Sweyn 














1015 


Eihelred II. 
(restored) 


.... 


.... 





Sviatopolk 
[I- 






1016 


Edmund 














Ironside & 
















Canute 














1017 Canute 















TABLE OF CONTEMPORARY SOVEREIGNS. 



725 



1019 
1024 
1027 
1031 
1033 

1035 



1036 
1037 

1039 
1040 
1042 

1044 
1016 
1048 

1054 
1055 
1056 
1057 
1053 
1060 
1061 
1063 

1065 



1066 

1072 
1073 
1074 
1076 
1077 

1073 
1036 
1037 
1088 
1093 
1094 

1095 

1093 
1099 
1100 
1104 
1106 
1107 
1103 
1109 
1113 
1118 
1119 
1124 
1125 
1126 
1130 
1132 
1134 



1135 
1137 
1133 
1140 

1143 
1144 
1145 



England 



Harold I. 



Hardicani. 
Edward the 
Confesso 



Harold II 
William 1 



William 



Henry 



Stephen 



France 



Heiiry I. 



Philip I. 



Louis Vn. 



Germany 



Conrad 



Henry III. 



Henry IV. 



Henry V, 



Lolhaire 



Conrad HI 



II. 



Papal Stateb 



John XIX. 
Benedict IX. 



Gregory VI. 
Clement II. 
Damasus II. 
Leo IX. 

Victor IL 

Stephen IX. 
Nichola.s II. 

Alexander 11. 



Gregory VII. 



Victor in. 
Urban 11. 



Pascal II. 



Gclasius II. 
Calixtus II. 
Honorius II. 



Innocent II. 



Celestine II. 
Luciu3 II. 
Eugene III. 



Russia 



laroslaf 



Isiaslaf I. 



[II- 
Sviatoslaf 

Isiaslaf I. 
(restored) 
Vsevolod I. 



SviatopoDc 



Vladimir 11. 

Mstislaf 
laropoUc II. 



Viatcheslaf 
Vsevolod II. 



Spain 



BenniidoIII. 

Leon 
Ferdinand I. 

Castile 
Garcia III. 

Nai^arre 
Ramiro 1. 

Aragon 
Ferdinand I. 
Cast, j' Le. 



Sancho FV. 
Navarre 



Sancho I. 

Aragon 
Alfonso VI. 

Leon 
Sancho II. 

Castile 

Alfonso VI. 
Le. ^ Cast. 

Sancho V. 
(I. ofArag.) 
Navarre 



Peter I. 
Nav.SfAr. 



Alfonso I. 
Nav. ^Ar. 

Urraca 
Cast. ^ Le. 



Alfon.soVn. 
Cast. Sj- Le. 

Garcia IV. 

Navarre 
Ramiro II. 

Aragon 
Pelronilla& 

Raymondo 

Aragon 



3i* 



Scotland 



Duncan I. 



Macbeth 



Malcolm 

[III. 



Donald VI. 
Duncan H. 

Donald VI. 
(restored) 

Edgar 



Alexander I. 



David 1. 



726 



TABLE OF CONTEMPORARY SOVEREIGNS. 



England 



1147 

1149 
1150 
1152 
1153 
1154 Henry H, 



1157 



1153 
1159 
1162 

1165 
1175 
1177 
1130 
1181 
1185 
1187 

1188 
11S9 
1190 
1191 
1194 

1196 

1198 
1199 
1203 
1212 
1213 

1214 
1216 
1217 
1213 
1223 
1-226 
1227 
1230 

1234 
1237 
1241 
1243 
1247 
1249 
1250 
1251 

1252 

1253 
1254 

1257 

1261 
1264 
1265 
1270 
1271 
1272 
1273 

1274 

1276 



Richard 



John 



Henry HI, 



Edward! 



France 



Philip IL 



Louis IX 



vm. 



Philip 



m. 



Germany 



FreJeric 



Papal States 



Anastasius IV. 
Adrian IV. 



Alexander HI. 



Lucius in. 
Urban EI. 
Gregory VUL 
Clement III. 



Henry VI 



Philip and 
Otho IV. 
Otho IV. 
Frederic II. 



Conrad rv. 



William of 
Holland 
Richard, E. 
of Cornwall 



Rodolph of 
Hapsburg 



Celesline III. 



Innocent III. 



Honorius HI. 



Gregory IX. 



Celestine IV. 
Innocent IV. 



Alexander IV. 

Urban IV. 
Clement IV. 
Gregory X. 



Innocent V. 
Adrian V. 



Russia 



l2or II. 
liiaslaf H. 
louri I. 
Isiaslaf II. 
(restored) 

Rosiislaf 
Isiaslaf in. 
louri I. 

(restored) 
Andrei I. 



Mikhail I. 
Vsevolod 

pn. 



louri n. 



Constantine 
louri II. 
(restored) 



laroslaf H. 

[m. 

Sviatoslaf 
Andrei II. 

Alexander 
Nevski 



laroslaf HI. 



Vassili I. 



Dmitri I. 



Spain 



Sancho VI. 
Navarre 



Sancho HI. 

Castile 
Ferd. II. 

Leon 
Alfons.Vni. 

Castile 
Alfonso n. 

Aragon 



Alfonso IX. 
Leon 



Sancho \ 11. 

Navarre 
Peter H. 

Arason 



James I. 

Arason 
Henry I. 

Castile 
Ferd. in. 

Castile 



Ferd. HI. 
Cast. &• Le. 
Theobald I. 
Navarre 



Alfonso X. 

Cast. &• Le. 

Theobald IL 

Navarre 



Henry I. 
Navarre 



Joanna I. 
Navarre. 
Peter HI. 

Aragon 



Scotland 



MalcolmlV. 



William 



Alexander 
[H. 



Alexander 

[m. 



TABLE OF CONTEMPORARY SOVEREIGNS. 



727 



A.D. England France Germany Papal States Russia 



1276 
1277 
1231 
12S4 

1285 

1236 

12*3 

1291 

1292 

1291 

1295 

1296 
1293 

1303 
1301 

1305 

1306 
1307 
1308 
1312 
1311 

1316 

1320 
1322 
1323 
1321 

1327 

1323 



1329 
1330 
ia31 
1336 
1341 
1342 
1313 
1347 
1319 

1350 
ia52 
1353 
1360 
1362 
1364 
1363 
1370 
1371 
1377 
1378 
1379 
1^0 
1387 



1389 
1390 



Edward n. 



Edward III. 



Richard 



1395 

1399: Henry 

1400 . . 

1401 . . 



Philip n' 



Louis X. 



John I. 
Philip V. 



Charles W. 



Philip VI 



John n. 



Charles V, 



Charles VI. 



Adolphus of 
Nassau 



Albert of 
Austria 



Henry VTI. 

Frederic Til. 
(k Louis V. 



Louis V. 



Charles IV. 



Wenceslaus 



Robert 



John XXI. 
Nicholas III. 
Manin IV. 



Honorius FV. 
Nicholas IV. 



Celesline V. 
Boniface VIH. 



Benedict XI. 
Clement V. 



JohnXXn. 



Benedict XH. 
Clement VI. 



Innocent VI. 
Urban V.' 
Gregory XI. 
Urban VI. 

Boniface IX. 

Innocent \TI. 



Andrei HI. 



Mikhail H. 



louri m. 

Dmitri H. 
Ale.xander 
[H. 



Ivan I. 



Semen 



Ivan n. 
Dmitri III. 
(kDmitri IV. 



Vassili n. 



Spain 



Sancho FV, 
Cast. ^ Le. 
Alfonso III. 
Aragon 



James II. 
Aragon 



Ferd. IV. 
Cast, if Le. 



Louis 

(X. France) 
Navarre 



Alfonso XI, 
Cast. Sf Le. 

Philip L 
(V^ France) 

Navarre 
Charles I. 
(IV. France) 

Navarre 

Alfonso IV. 

Aragon 
Joanna II. & 

Philip II. 

Navarre 



Peter V!. 

Aragon 

Joanna II. 

Navarro 
Charles II. 

Navarre 
Peter the 
Cruel 
Cast. §r Le. 



Henry 11. 
Cast. ^ Le. 



John I. 
Cast. &• Le. 
Charles III. 

Navarre 
John I. 

Aragon 
Henrv HI. 
Cast. ^ Le. 
3Iartiu 

Aragon 



Scotland 



Margaret 



John Baliol 



Interreg 
num 



Robert I. 



David n. 
(EilwardBa- 
liol usurped 
in 13.32, but 
was de]K)sed 
in the same 
year.] 



Robert II. 



Robert in. 



728 



TABLE OF CONTEMPORARY SOVEREIGNS. 



1406 
1409 
1410 
1411 
1412 
1413 
1416 
1417 
1422 
1425 

1431 
1437 
1438 
1440 
1441 
1447 
1454 
1455 
1458 

1460 
1461 
1462 
1464 
1471 
1474 



1479 



1483 

1484 
1485 
1488 
1492 
1493 
1498 
1503 

1504 
1505 
1506 
1509 
1513 
1515 
1516 
1519 
1522 
1523 
1533 
1534 
1542 
1547 
1550 
1553 

1555 

1556 
1558 
1559 
1560 
1564 
1566 
1567 
1572 
1574 
1576 
1584 



England 



Henry V- 
Henry Vi, 



Edward IV. 



France 



Germany 



Edward V. 
Richard III. 

Henry Vfl. 



Henry 



vm. 



Jane 

Mary 



Elizabeth 



Charles VII. 



Louis XI. 



Charles 

[VIII. 



Louis XII 



Francis I 



Henry II 



Francis II. 
Charles IX. 



Henry HI. 



Sigismond 



Albert H. 
Frederic IV. 



Maximilian 
[I- 



Charles V. 



Ferdinand I. 

■ ■ in. 

Maximilian 



Rodolph n. 



Papal States 



Gregory XII. 
Alexander V. 
John XXIII. 



Martin V. 



Eugene IV. 



Nicholas V. 



Calixtus III. 
Pius II. 



Paul H. 
Sixtus IV. 



Russia 



Vassili ni. 



Ivan m. 



Innocent VHI. 



Alexander VI. 



Pius m. 
Julius II. 



LeoX. 



Adrian VI. 
Clement VII. 



Paul III. 
Julius III. 



Marcellus IL 
Paul IV. 



Pius rv. 

Pius v. 
Gregory Xlfl. 



Vassili rv. 



lyanlV. 



Spain 



Fedor I. 



John II. 
Cast. ^ Le. 



Ferdinand I. 

Aragon 
Alfonso V. 

Aragon 

Blanche & 
John II. 
Navarre 



John n. 

Navarre 
Henry IV. 
Cast, ff Le. 
John II. 

Ar. ^- Nav. 



Ferd. V. 
(H. of Ar.) 
& Isabella 

Cast. &• Le. 

Ferd. II. 
Aragon 

Eleanor 
Navarre 

Fran. Phoe- 
bus, Nav. 

Catharine 
Navarre 



Philip I. 

Castile 
Ferd. V. 
Regent CosZ 



Charles I. 
(V. Germ.) 



Philip IL 



Scotland 



James I. 



James II. 



James III. 



James IV. 



James V. 



Mary 



Jamea VI. 



TABLE OF CONTEMPORARY SOVEREIGNS. 



729 



A.D. 


England 


Francs 


Germany 


Papal States 


Russia 


Spain 


Scotland 


1585 






.... 


Sixtus V. 








1539 




Henry IV. 












1590 


.... 


.... 




Urban VII. 










.... 






Gregory XIV. 








1591 








Innocent IX. 








1592 


.... 






Clemenl VIIL 








159S 


G. Britain 


.... 






Boris Godo- 
nouf 


Philip III. 




1603 


James I. 




.... 








Ascended 


1605 




.... 




Leo XI." 


Pseudo- 




the throne 




.... 






Paul V. 


Dmitri 




of England 


1606 






.... 




Vassili V. 




March, 


1610 




Louia XIII. 










1603. 


1612 


.... 




Matthias 










1613 




.... 


.... 




Mikhail 






1619 


. . ! ! 




Ferd, II. 




Romanof 






1621 




.... 




Gregory XV. 


.... 


Philip IV. 




1623 


.... 




.... 


Urban VIIL 








1625 


Charles I. 














1637 


.... 


.... 


Ferd. III. 










1613 


.... 


Louis XIV. 












1614 


.... 






Innocent X. 








1615 


.... 


.... 


.... 




Alexis 






1619 


Commonw. 














1653 


O. Cromwell 

Proleclor 














1655 




.... 




Alexander VTI. 








1658 


R. Cromwell 
Protector 


.... 


Leopold I. 










1660 


Cliarles 11. 














1665 


.... 


.... 


.... 




.... 


Charles IL 




1667 


.... 






Clement IX. 








1670 








Clement X. 








1676 


.... 


.... 




Innocent XI. 


Fedor H. 






1632 


.... 


.... 


.... 




Ivan V. & 






16S5 


James II. 








Peter the G. 






1639 


Mary & 
William ni. 


.... 




Alexander VIIL 


Peter the G. 




55 


1691 




.... 




Innocent XII. 






g 


1695 


William in. 












a 


1700 






.... 


Clement XI. 


.... 


Philip V. 


cq 


1702 


Anne 












H 


1705 




.... 


Joseph I. 










1711 






Charles VI. 








a 


1714 


George I. 












1715 


.... 


Louis XV. 










r§ 


1721 




.... 




Innocent XIII. 






^ 


1724 


.... 










Benedict XIII. 


.... 


Loiiis 
Philip V. 




1725 










.... 




Catharine I. 


(restored) 




1727 


George II. 








.... 




Peter II. 






1730 












Clement XII. 


Anne 






1740 












Benedict XIV. 


Ivan VI. 






1741 


.... 








.... 




Elizabeth 






1742 


.... 








Charles VII. 










1745 


.... 








Francis I. 
















& Maria 
















Teresa 










1746 


.... 


.... 






.... 


Ferd. VI. 




1753 


.... 


.... 




Clement Xni. 








1759 




.... 






.... 


Charles III. 




1760 


George HI. 














1762 




.... 






Peter HI. 






— 










Catharinell. 






1765 






Joseph II. 










1769 






.... 


aement XIV. 








1774 




Louis XVI. 












1775 


.... 




.... 


Pius VI. 








1788 












Charles IV. 




1790 


.... 


.... 


Leopold II. 










1792 


.... 


Republic 


Francis II.* 










1796 


.... 




.... 




Paul 







* Upon the establishment of the Confederation of the Rhine, in 1S06, Francis censed to be Emperor 
of Germany, and became hereditary Emperor of Austria, under the title of Francis I. 

92 



730 TABLE OF CONTEMPORARY SOVEREIGNS. 

THE LESSER EUROPEAN STATES. 



A. D. 

1500 


Denmark 


Naples 


Poland 


Portugal 


Prussia 


Sardinia 


Sweden 


John 




John Albert 


Manuel 








1501 






Alexander 










150G 






Sigismond I. 










1513 


Christian II. 














1521 








John III. 








1523 


Frederic I. 


.... 


.... 






.... 


Gustavus 


1531 


Christian III. 












Wasa 


I54S 






Sigismond II. 










1557 








Sebastian 








1559 


Frederic II. 














1560 






.... 




.... 


.... 


Eric XIV. 


1563 


.... 


.... 




.... 


.... 


.... 


John III. 


157J 






Henry 

(III. France) 










1575 


.... 




Stephen 










1578 


.... 


.... 




Henry 








1580 








Antonio 













.... 


.... 


Philip I. 








1587 




.... 


Sigismond 


(II. Spain) 








1588 


Christian IV. 




[III. 










1592 


.... 










• . . • 


Sigismond 


1598 




.... 


.... 


Philip II." 
(III. Spain) 






(III. Poland) 


IGOl 






.... 


.... 


.... 


.... 


Charles IX. 


1611 




.... 




.... 


«... 


.... 


Gustavus 


1621 








Philip III. 






Adolphus 


1632 


.... 




Ula'dislasVII. 


(IV. Spain) 








1633 






.... 




.... 


.... 


Christina 


1640 






.... 


John IV.' 








1648 


Frederic III. 




Casimir V. 










1654 


.... 




.... 




.... 


.... 


Charles X. 


1656 






.... 


Alfonso VI. 








1660 






.... 






.... 


Charles XI. 


1667 








Peter,Reg't. 








1669 


.... 


.... 


Michael 










1670 


Christian V. 














1674 




.... 


JohnSobieskl 










1683 




.... 


.... 


Peter II. 








1697 






Fred. Aug. I. 


. • • • 


.... 


.... 


Charles XU. 


1699 


Frederic IV. 














1701 


.... 


.... 






Frederic I. 






1704 


.... 


.... 


Stanislas I. 










1706 


.... 






JohnV. 








1709 






Fre'd.'Aug. I. 
(restored) 










1713 


.... 




.... 




Fred. Wm. I. 






1719 


.... 


.... 








.... 


Ulrica & 


1720 


.... 










Victor Am- 
adeiis 11. 


Frederic 


1730 


Christian VI. 


.... 




.... 


• • • • 


Charles 




1733 


.... 




Fred. Aug.II. 






Eman. III. 




1735 


.... 


Charles 
(III. Spain) 












1740 






.... 


.... 


Frederic II. 
(the Great) 






1741 




.... 






. • • • 


.... 


Frederic 


1746 


Frederic V. 














1750 


.... 


.... 


.... 


Joseph 








1751 






.... 




. • • • 




Adolphus 


1759 




Ferdinand I. 










Frederic 


1764 




.... 


Stanislas II. 










1766 


Christian\TI. 














1771 






.... 


.... 


. . • • 


.... 


Gustavus 


1772 


.... 


.... 


1st Partition 








[III. 


1773 


.... 




.... 


.... 


• • • • 


Victor Am- 




1777 


.... 




.... 


Maria & 
Peter III. 




adeus III. 




17S6 


.... 




.... 


Maria 


Fred.Wm. 11. 






1792 


.... 




.... 


John, Reg't. 


. • • • 


.... 


Gustavus 


1793 


.... 


.... 


2d Partition 








[IV. 


1795 






3d Partition 










1796 


.... 






.... 


.... 


Charles 




1797 










Fred.Wm.m 


Eman. IV. 





INDEX. 



Abridgments, Historical, their proper 

use, 4. 
Adolphus, History of the Reign of George 

III., 533, 553. 
Aix-la-Chapelle, Peace of, 495. 
Albigenses, 670. 

Allodial lands, 35. Allodial tenures ex- 
tinguished in England, 110. 
Alva, Duke of, 208. His speech for war, 

209, 614. In the Netherlands, 210. 
America, English settlements in, 371. 
American War, 547. Debates on, 549. — 

See Revolution. 
Anabaptists, 686. 
Anglo-Saxon Constitution, 113. 
Anglo-Saxons, Turner's and Palgrave's 

Histories of, 148. 
Anne, of England, reign of, 392, 409, 427. 

Controlled by Whig ministry, 414. 

Her politics, 428. 
Arians and Socinians, Act of William III. 

against, 389. 
Arnold, of Unterwalden, heroic death of, 

146. 
Assemblies, National, in England and 

France, 109, 124, 2.33, 683. 
Aula Regis, Court of, 109. 
Austria, House of, 143. Names and 

character of its princes, 220, 230. Its 

power humbled, 228. 



B. 



Barbarians, results of the irruption of, 
25, 27. Their codes, 39. 

Barons, their power first weakened, 60. 
Their struggles for the charters, 116. 

Barrington, Observations on the Ancient 
Statutes, 107, 678. 

Belhaven, Lord, his speeches on the 
Union, 438, 444. 

Belsham, his English History, 374, 553. 

Benedictines, their work on French his- 
tory, 66, 668. 

Beneficia, 35. 



Blackstone, 108. His History of the 
Charters, 114. On the laws against 
Papists, 690. 

Bohemia, Protestant revolt in, 221. 

Bolingbroke, Correspondence of, 407. His 
Dissertation on Parties, 460. His Let- 
ter to Wyndham, 461, 701. 

Brantome, Memoirs, 186. 

Britons, conquest of, by the Romans, 80 ; 
by the Saxons, &c., 81. 

Buckin<j:ham, Duke of, his death, 328. 

Bull, Golden, of Charles IV., 143. 

Burgesses first summoned to Parliament, 
104. 

Burke, Edmund, 83. His European Set- 
tlements in America, 371 . Writings and 
Speeches on the American War, 580. 

Burnet, Bishop, his History of the Refor- 
mation, 180. History of his own Time, 
305, 375. 

Bute, Earl of, 539. His policy, 544, 546. 



C. 



Cabal ministry, 305. 

Calvin, intolerance of, 165, 686. 

Calvinists in France, 191. 

Capitularies, 39, 45, 669, 670. 

Carlisle, Bishop of, his speech as given by 
Hume and Hayward, 95, 96. 

Carteret, Lord, 494. 

Catherine de Medicis, 188. 

Charlemagne, Eginhard's Life of, 32. 
Gibbon's estimate of, 33. His merits, 
668. 

Charles Edward, the Pretender, 498. 

Charles I. of England, 244. Histories of 
his reign, 245. Contests with the Com- 
mons, 247, 249, 267. Suspends Parlia- 
ments, 250. Attempts to introduce 
Episcopacy into Scotland, 257. Sum- 
mons the Parliament, 258. His conces- 
sions, 267. Engages in civil war, 268. 
Defeated at Naseby, 271 . Delivered up 
by the Scots, ib. Attempts a treaty 
with the Presbyterians, 272. His exe- 
cution, 274. His character, 275. 



732 



INDEX. 



Charles II. of England, his defeat at Wor- 
cester, 282. Eestoration, 294, 297, 301. 
Intrigues with France, 306, 312. Con- 
test with the Commons, 314; with the 
Exclusionists, 3 1 9. His declaration and 
appeal to the people, 322. Character of 
his court, 328, 332. His death and char- 
acter, 330. Religion, 693. 

Charles V. of France (the Wise), his ac- 
cession and policy, 124, 125. 

Charles VI. of France, 126, 127. 

Charles VII. of France, expels the Eng- 
lish, 130. Establishes a military force 
and tax, ib. 

Charters, English, 114, 677. 

Chivalry, writers on, 36. Chivaliy and the 
chivalrous character, 76. 

Christians, sufierings of the early, 157. 

Church, divisions in, 158. Revenues of, 
161, 174, 218. Of England, at the Res- 
toration, 302. Power and jurisdiction 
of, 671. /See Rome. 

Clarendon, Earl of, (Edward Hyde,) 280, 
297,331. 

Clarendon, Earl of, (Henry Hyde,) 340. 

Clergy, of the Middle Ages, their merits, 
62, 669. Abuse of power, 62, 73, 672. 
Celibacy, 75. Interference in politics, 
197. Privileges, 671. 

Codes, Barbarian, 39, 669. Salique, 39. 
Inferences from, 44. 

Colonies, policy towards, 430. Separation 
fi-om the mother country, 554. 

Columbus, Life of, by his son, 359. Op- 
position to, 360. Assisted by Isabella, 
lb. His character, 361. His misfortunes, 
362. Irving's Life of, ib. 

Comines, Philip de, 132, 685. 

Commerce, 60. Eifect of its pursuit, 504, 
506. 

Commons, begin to acquire importance in 
Europe, 60, 673. Their struggles in 
France, 121, 122, 124, 127. 

Commons, House of, 84, 104, 679, 683. 
Struggles between the king and, 87, 
100. Views of its origin, 104, 241. 
Apology to James I., 241. Contest 
with Charles I., 247 ; with Charles 11., 
314. Debate and vote against James 
II., 344. Secrecy of debate, 380, 488, 
697. Bishop Sherlock's remark on, 
456. 

Cond6, Prince of, 188, 189. 

Congress, first American, 561, 597 ; its 
weakness, 632. First, under the Con- 
stitution, 654. 

Conquests, folly of foreign, 183. 

Constitution, American, convention for 
framing, 648. Objections to, ib. Rati- 
fied, 649. 

Constitution, English, 81. Controversies 
about, 85, Under Elizabeth, 234. Un- 
der Charles I., 247, 253. Allows appeal 



to the people, 417. Dc Lolme's view of, 
682. 

Constitution, French, 120, 130, 202. 

Cortes, Aragonese, 137. Castilian, 139, 

Cortes, his Letters on the conquest of 
Mexico, 362. Incidents in his expedi- 
tion, 364, 

Cotton, Abridgment of the Records, 84. 

Coxe, House of Austria, 143. Life of 
Marlborough, 393. Memoirs of Bour- 
bons in Spain, 409. Memoirs of Wal- 
pole, 452. 

Cranmer, intolerance of, 167, 

Cromwell, Oliver, his character, 269, 
Evades the Self-denying Ordinance, 
270. Difficulties in the way of his 
usurpation, 284 ; its unsucce'ssfiiiness, 
288. Meditates assuming the title of 
King, 287. 

Cromwell, Richard, 293. 

Crusaders, their character and sentiments, 
77, 674. 

Ci"usades, 38. Smith's and Robertson's 
views of, 60; Gibbon's, 61 ; Hume's, 77. 
Influence on barons and clergy, 62, 
Their foundation in human nature, 
78, 

Culloden, battle of, 498. 

D. 

Dalrtmple, Memoirs, 310, 312. 

Damascus, siege of, 53. 

D'Anquetil, History of France, 67. 

Dark Ages, difficulties in studpng the 
history of, 28. Principal points in, 30. 
Two great evils in, 56, 59, 73. Conclu- 
sions to be drawn from, 73. Hallam's 
History of, 47, 147; Koch's, 67. 

Davila, Civil Wars of France, 185. 

Debate, secrecy of, 380, 488, 697. 

Debt, funded, of England, 529. Of Ameri- 
ca, 652. 

De Foe, History of the Union, 434. 

De Lolme on the English Constitution, 
682. 

Democracy, inadequacy of, 630. 

De Thou. — ^e Thuanus. 

D'Ewes, Sir Simonds, Journals of Parlia- 
ments, 240. 

Diaz, Bernal, History of the Conquest of 
Mexico, 363, 365, 367. 

Digbv, Lord, speech in favor of StrafiFord, 
261. 

Dissenters, eligibility to office in France 
and England, 204. Test Act against, 

353, 694. Toleration Act in favor of, 

354. — See Presbyterians, &c. 
Dodington (Lord Melcombe), Diary of, 

489. 
Domesday Book, 110. 
Dryden, 332. 
Duelling, 78. 



,,,K(\ n ^•>^' 



INDEX. 



r33 



E. 



Ecclesiastical power, 671. — See 
Clergy. 

Education, liberal, effects of, 699. 

Edward the Confessor, laws of, 114, 
676. 

Edward VI., humanity of, 167. Trocla- 
mation of, 234. 

Eg'inhard, Life of Charlemagne, 32. 

Elector Palatine, (Frederic V.,) made king 
of Bohemia, 221. His character, 222. 

Elizabeth of England, assertion of prerog- 
ative, 234, 239. Contests with Com- 
mons, 235. Character, 239. Her re- 
ligious intolerance, 688. 

Empire, fall of the Western, 25 : its divis- 
ion after Charlemagne, 33. Decline of 
the Eastern, 140. 

England, early history, 80. Constitution- 
al history, 81, 87, 232, 234, 242, 251, 351, 
379, 682. Support of the crown, 242. 
Prosperity, under Charles I., 251, 252. 
Civil war, under Charles I., 268. Ex- 
penditures during the war, 292. State, 
at the Restoration, 302. Revolution of 
1688, 334. Succession changed, 350. 
Interference in Continental affairs, 391. 
War of succession with France, 400. 
Peace of Utrecht, 408. Commercial 
treaty with France, 700. Constitution- 
al disputes, 422. 426. Union with Scot- 
land, 434. Era of George I., 451. 
Continental politics of that era, 453, 
496. Progress of civil liberty, 453 ; of 
religious liberty, 461. Commercial pros- 
perity, 462; at the rebellion of 1745, 
504. ' French war of 1756, 505. Policy 
towards American colonies, 556. 

Europe, state of, in the third century, 20 ; 
at the fall of the Western Empire, 26. 

Exclusion Bill, 320. 

Executive, necessity of strength in, 630, 
635, 640. 



Fairfax, character of, 269. 

Federal government, efforts to establish in 
America, 645. 

Federalist, The, 649. 

Fenwick, Sir John, attainder of, 698. 

Ferdinand I. of Germany, 230. 

Ferdinand II., 221, 230. 

Feudal System, 34, 73. Its effects, 56. 
Its power weakened, 60. Incidents il- 
lustrative of 69. Establishment in 
England, 113; in Spain, 137. 

Fiefs" 35. 

Flemings, their want of patriotism, 211, 
213. 

Fletcher of Saltoun, 437. 

Formularies of Marculphus, 45. 



Fox, Book of Martvrs, 180. Letter to 
Elizabeth, 687. 

France, histories of, 66,67. Under John 
IL, 122. Under Henry IV., 201. In- 
surrections in, 123, 682. Dissensions 
between Burgundy and Orleans, 129. 
Invaded by the English, ib. Union of 
the royal family with that of Spain, 394. 
War of succession, 400. Coutumier dc, 
671. 

Francis I. of France, 188. His intoler- 
ance, 165. 

Franklin, Benjamin, Works of, 551. 

Frederic the Great, of Prussia, 510. His- 
tories of his reign, 510, 512. His writ- 
ings, 513, 523. Invasion of Silesia, 516. 
His character, 521, 525. CoiTcspond- 
ence with Voltaire, 523. 

Frederic V. of Bohemia. — See Elector 
Palatine. 



Galgacus, speech of, in Tacitus, 80. 

Gauls, Cffisar's account of, 21. 

George L, his policy, 536. Speeches 
from the throne, 702. — See England. 

George II. , reign of, 488. His speeches, 
703. 

George III., Adolphus's History of his 
reign, 533. His policy considered, 535 - 
547. 

Germain, Lord George, dispute between 
General Howe and, 623. 

Germans, Tacitus's account of the, 22. 

Germany, crown elective in, 33. Contest 
between the Emperor and the Popes, 
37, 673. Power of the Emperor, 144. 
Reformation in, 169, 216. Dissensions 
of Lutheran and Calvinistic princes, 
219. 

Gibbon ; observations on his History, 63 ; 
its fiiults, ib.; merits, 65. His Sketch 
of Universal History, 67. His views 
on the American War, 608. 

Goths, 25. 

Government, Hume's view of, 274. Im- 
policy of harshness in, 207, 611, 692. 

Grammont, Comte de, his Memoirs, 331. 

Granvelle, Cardinal, 208. 

Gregory VII., Pope, 673. 

Grenville, Mr., speech on American taxa- 
tion, 562. 

Guise, House of, 188. First Duke of, as- 
sassinated, 193. Second Duke forms 
the League, 195. 

Gustavus Adolphus, 223. Harte's Life of, 
224. 



H. 

Habeas CoRprs, wTit of, 249. 
under Charles II., 693. 

3j 



Act, 



734 



INDEX. 



Hale, Sir Matthew, 301. 

Hallam, History of tlie Middle Ages, 47, 
83, 147. Constitutional History of Eng- 
land, 82, 83, 675. 

Hamilton, Alexander, 656. 

Hamjjden, John, 254. 

Hanseatic League, 38. 

Helvetic Confederacy, 144, 146. Histories 
of, 148. 

Henault, History of France, 67, 71. 

Henry IV. of France, his conversion, 192. 
Assassination, 193. Benefits to France, 
203, 205. 

Henry VI. of England, crowned Kng of 
France, 129. 

Henry VII. of England, his ambition and 
avarice, 679. Bacon's Life of, ib. Laws 
of, 680. 

Henry VIII., 232. 

Heretics, execution of, 686, 689. Writ De 
Hajretico Comburendo, 687. 

Hidage, 112. 

Highlanders, join Charles Edward, 499. 
Their heroism and loyalty, 500. Eng- 
lish policy towards, 502. 

Historians, two classes of, 85, 88. Their 
ignorance of political economy, 681. 

Histories, general, their proper use, 4, 5. 

History, its uses, 13. Its truth, 15, 326. 
Important periods in, 27. Two princi- 
pal points in modern, 373. Lectures 
on, difficulties of, 11 ; their use, 12. 

Home, History of the Rebellion of 1745, 
497, 498. 

Howe, Sir William, inquiry into his con- 
duct of the American War, 624. 

Hugh Capet, 68. 

Huguenots, 191, 204. 

Hume, his Essay on the Populousness of 
Ancient Nations, 23. His Appendixes, 
71, 680. His Political Discourses, 667. 
Observations on his English History, 
89, 100; Stuart's opinion of it, 99. His 
inaccuracy in quoting authorities, 91. 
Unfair coloring, 94. Indifference to 
popular privileges, 101. His observa- 
tions on the Great Charter, 117. His 
unfair account of the Reformers, 178, 
181. His views of government and 
obedience quoted, 274, 275. His char- 
acter of Charles II., 306. His incon- 
sistencies, 684. . Discordance between 
Rapin and, ib. 

Huns, 25. 

Huss, John, 164. 

Hutchinson, Colonel, Life of, 289 ; quoted, 
290. 



Independence in America, declared, 599, 
601, 619. Paine's arguments in favor 
of, 599. Effect in England, 606. 



Independents, 270. After the death of 
Charles I., 281. 

Inquisition, 75, 159, 672. 

Insurrections, in Massachusetts, 647. In 
Flanders, France, and England, 681, 
682. 

Interim of Charles V., 170. 

Intolerance, natural to the human mind, 
155. In religion, 156; instances, 164. 
Of the ancients, 157. Of the Protestants, 
164, 168, 219, 686. 

Inventions, era of, 149. 

Italian Republics, 141. Sismondi's His- 
tory of, 141, 142. 

Italians, character of, 142. 

Italy, 141. Present state of, 143. In- 
vaded by the French and Spanish in 
the sixteenth century, 183. 



Jacquerie, insurrection of the, 123, 682. 

James L, contest with the Commons, 241. 
Character, 242. 

James II., his Journal, 307, 309, 376. 
His Memoirs, 308, 310. Attempts to 
exclude him from the succession, 319. 
Indictment against him, 334. His at- 
tacks upon the liberties of the people, 
335 ; their resistance of a religious na- 
ture, 336. His interview with the Bish- 
ops, 341. Joins the army, 342. Re- 
treats to London, ib. Leaves England, 
344. Declaration of the House of Com- 
mons against him, 345. His intrigues 
while in exile, 377. 

Jefferson, Thomas, 657. 

Jews, ordinances relative to, 69, 670. 
Persecutions of, 158. 

Joan of Arc, 130. 

Joan of Kent, 167, 686. 

Johnson, Samuel, his Taxation no Tyran- 
ny, 577. 

Judicial pursuits, influence of, 386. 

Justiza of Aragon, 137. 



K. 



Knox, John, 181. 

Koch, Revolutions of the Middle Ages, 

67, 150. 
Koran, Sale's translation of the, 49. 



Lacreteele, History of Religious Wars 

in France, 187. 
Law, John, 472. Banking schemes, 474. 

Mississippi scheme, 475. 
Laws, of Edward the Confessor, 114, 676. 

Of Henry VII., 680. 
League, the, 195. 
Learning, revival of, 152. 



INDEX. 



735 



Liberty, civil and religious, importance of, 
664." 

Lineard. History of England, 83, 180. 

Loiiis IX. (St. Louis), 70, 159, G7.3, 674. 
His Establishments, 71, 671. His re- 
forms, 71, 671. 

Louis XL, his character and policy, 131. 
Sickness and death, 133. 

Louis XIV., marries the Infanta, 395. 
Treaties of partition with William III., 
395, 396. 

Luther, 164, 170, 178, 182. 

Luxury, effects upon a people, 506. 



M. 



Mablt, Abbe de, 32, 72, 120. 

Mackintosh, Sir James, History of Eng- 
land, 83, 674. His personal character, 
674. 

Macpherson, Original Papers, 308, 310, 
312. 

Mahomet, 48, 50, 670. Gibbon's account 
of, 49. White's Bampton Lectures on, 
50. 

Mahometanism, 53. 

Marcel, insurrection of, 121. 

Margaret of Parma, 207. 

Mariana, History of Spain, 135. 

Maria Theresa, 51 5, 521 . War with Prus- 
sia, 517. Appeals to the Hungarians, 
519. 

Marlborough, Duke of, 401, 699. Duchess 
of, 407, 701 . 

Marshall, Life of Washington, 622, 636. 

Maximilian II. of Germany, 220. 

Melancthon, 167. Dispute with Eckius, 
170. 

Melcombe, Lord, Diary of, 489. 

Mexico, conquest of, 362, 369. Descrip- 
tion of the city, 366. Siege, 367. 

Middle Ages. — See Dark Ages. 

Millar on the English Constitution, 108. 

Milton, invectives against prelates and 
Presbyterians, 280. 

Ministers, power of the sovereign to ap- 
point, in England, 415, 541. 

Mirabcau, on the Prussian Monarchy, 514, 
705. 

Monarchy, hereditary in France, elective 
in Germany, 33. Hereditary in the 
principal European kingdoms, 61. In 
England always limited, 678. 
Money, paper, issued by the American 
Congress, 632, 636. Its depreciation, 
636, 638 ; Paine's view of, 639. 
Monk, General, his policy, 294. Char- 
acter, ih. 
Montesquieu, on religious persecution, 69 1 . 
Montezuma seized by Cort6s, 365. 
Moors, war with the Christians, 135. 
More, Sir Thomas, his intolerance, 165. 
Mackintosh's Life of, 166. 



Morgarten, battle of, 145. 
Mutiny Act, 455. 

N. 

Nantes, Edict of, 204, 691. 
Naseby, battle of, 271. 
Nations, connection of, 429. 
Naylor, History of Switzerland, 148. 
Netherlands, revolt of, 206; its results, 

215, 692. 
Nobility of England, 544. 
North, Lord, his character, 557, 609. 

Vacillating conduct in 1774, 604. His 

administration, 609. 



0. 



OcKLET, History of the Saracens, 53. 

Orange, Prince of, 210, 211, 215. 

Orange, Prince of (William III.), his ne- 
gotiations with England, 338. DiflB- 
culties of his enterprise, 339. Lands at 
Torbay, 340, 343. Plans and motives, 
348, 349. Crowned King of England, 
350. 

Ordinance, Self-denying, of Presbyterians 
and Independents, 270. 

Orleans, Duke of (Regent), his character, 
471. 

Orleans, Maid of, 130. 



Paine, Thomas, Common Sense, 599. 
Letter to Raynal on paper money, 639. 

Palaye, St.. Memoirs of Chivalry, 36. 

Palgrave, History of the Anglo-Saxons, 
148. 

Pajiists, act against, under William III., 
388. 

Parliaments, French, 202. English, 683. 
Under Henry VIII., 232; Elizabeth, 
235; James I., 241. Disuse of, by 
Charles I., 250. Long Parliament, 
259 ; religious character of its contest 
with Charles I., 264 ; debate upon his 
propositions, 273 ; dissolved by Crom- 
well, 283; History of, by May, 280. 
Cromwell's, 286, 287. Restoration Par- 
liament, 297. Pensionary, 302. 

Passau, peace of, 217, 218. 

Patriotism, effect of the pursuit of wealth 
on, 505. 

Pelham administration, 494, 508. 

People. — See Commons. 

Persecutions, religious, at the Reforma- 
tion, 164, 686. Under Elizabeth, 688. 
Under James I., 689. Under Charles I., 
690. Remark of Montesquieu on, 691. 

Peru, conquest of, 367. 

Petition of Right, 247. 

PfefFel, History of Germany, 67. 



736 



INDEX. 



Philip Augustus, 681. 

Philip le Bel, 70, 72. 

Philip II. of Spain, 207, 215. 

Pitt, William (first Earl of Chatham), his 
administration, 508, 537. Denounces 
Lord North's administration, 557. 
Speeches against American taxation, 
562, 564, 568. 

Place Bills, under AVilliam III., 381 . Un- 
der Anne, 411. Under Walpole's ad- 
ministration, 455. 

Planta, Helvetic History, 149, 

Poland, partition of, 522. 

Political Economy, 680; importance to 
statesmen, 700. Views of Mirabeau 
and Frederic the Great on, 514, 705. 

Politics, practical, 86. Violence of, in 
the reign of Anne, 409. Subjects of in- 
difference in, Paley's view, 411. Influ- 
ence in, 413. 

Popes, their temporal power, 34, 67 1 ; its ef- 
fects, 56 ; its decline, 61, 72. Authority 
and infallibility, 74. Their struggle with 
the Emperors,' 37, 673. 

Popish Plot, in the reign of Charles II., 
325. 

Portuguese, discoveries, conquests, and 
settlements of the, 370. 

Prerogative, struggle with privilege in 
England, 87, 100, 241. Necessary to 
civil freedom, 102. 

Presbyterians, in Scotland, 257. Contest 
with Charles I., 265. At Uxbridge, 
270. Attempt a treaty with the king, 
272. Not opposed to the monarchy, 
279. At the Restoration, 302. Non- 
conforming clergy, 304. 

Press, liberty of the, 383. Act for licens- 
ing the, 383, 698. 

Private judgment, right of, asserted by the 
Reformers, 174. They attempt to re- 
strain, ib. 

Privileges, popular, necessary to civil free- 
dom, 102. 

Prynne, his speech in the Long Parlia- 
ment, 273. 

Pultcney, his policy and position, 490. 



R. 



Ramsay, History of the American Revo- 
lution, 552, 592. 

Ranken, Earlv History of France, 67, 671. 

Rebellion of "1745, 497. Remark of Gib- 
bon on, 504. 

Refoi-mation, 154. State of Europe at its 
opening, 161. Evils to be expected 
from, 159, IGl; actual, 164. Benefits, 
162,174. Results, 176, 177. In Eng- 
land, 178; Hume's unfair account of, 
ib.; Burnet's History of, 180. In Scot- 
land, 181. In the Netherlands, 206. 
In Germany, 217. 



Regicides, trial and punishment of, 298. 

Religion, uncertainty of reasonings on, 
159. Disputes about, 169, 171. 

Religious principle, power of the, 156. 

Remonstrance of the Commons to Charles 
I., 265, 267. 

Reporting of debates, 380, 697. 

Republicanism, 547. 

Republicans. — See Independents. 

Republics, calculated to call out talent, 
142. History of the Italian, 141. 

Reresby, Sir John, Memoirs, 342. 

Reservation, Ecclesiastical, of benefices, 
218, 227. 

Revenue of the Crown, 381, 697. 

Revolution, American, want of materials 
for its history, 549. Gordon's History, 
550; Ramsay's, 592; Stedman's, 622. 
Course of reading on, 552. Causes, 
558, 571. Summary of events, 560. 
Feelings and reasonings of the Ameri- 
cans, 593, 601 ; of the English, 603, 608. 
Distress and privations of the Ameri- 
cans, 618, 632, 634. Discontents in the 
army, 637, 640. Results of, 663. Com- 
pared with that in the Netherlands, 209, 
612. 

Revolution of 1688 in England, 334. Its 
constitutional benefits, 350, 352. Re- 
ligious results of, 353. Its success 
doubtful, 376. 

Richard II., discordance between Hume 
and Rapin as to charges against, 684. 

Rights, Bill of, signed by William III., 
352. 

Robertson, 57,58, 120. History of Ameri- 
ca, 357. History of Scotland, 448. 

Robinson, Considerations on the Measures 
respecting the American Colonies, 574. 

Rochester, Earl of, his character and death, 
328. 

Romans, contest with Barbarians, 24. 
Condition after their conquest, 46, 668. 

Rome, 140. Church of, its doctrines, 74; 
its peculiar intolerance, 192. 

Russell, Lord William, executed, 324. 

Rye-house plot, 324. 

Ryswick, peace of, 390. 

S. 

Sacheverell, Dr., trial of, 421. 

Salique Code, 40. Prologue to, 43, 668. 

Saxons, irruptions of, 672. — See Anglo- 
Saxons. 

Scotland, Laing's History of, 332. Crisis 
in its affairs, 437. History and fortunes 
of, 448, 449. 

Scutage, 112. 

Security, Act of, in Scotland, 438. 

Septennial Bill, 456. 

Serfs, provisions of Louis IX. in regard 
to, 671. 



INDEX. 



737 



Settlement, Act of, under William III., 
699. 

Seven- Years' War, 517, 522. 

Shaftesbury, Earl of, 315. His character 
and death, 328, 329. 

Ship-money, imposition of, 254. 

Sicily, Norman empire in, 670. 

Sidney, Algernon, executed, 324. 

Sismondi, History of Italian Republics, 
141, 142. 

Skepticism, 525. 

Smedley, Ilistorv of the Reformed Chm-ch 
in France, 187, 206. 

Smollett, English History, 488. 

Societies, religious, 668. 

Society, causes of the improvement of, 58, 
60, 61. 

Somers, Lord, impeachment of, 387. 

Somerville, English Histories, 374. 

South-Sea Bubble, 481. 

Spain, Moors in, 135. Spirit of liberty in, 
137. Struggles with prerogative, 138. 
Calcott's History of, 139. State of, in 
the sixteenth century, 184. Succession 
of the royal family of France to the 
throne of," 394, 396. Partition treaties 
concerning, 396. 

Spaniards and Mexicans, 369. 

Stamp Act passed, 561 ; repealed, 565; its 
effect in America, 594. 

States-General of France, first a.sscmbled, 
72. Struggle between the king and, 
121. Overpowered by John II. and 
Charles V., 124. Assembled by the 
Duke of Anjou, 128. In the time of 
Henry IV., 201. 

St. Bartholomew, massacre of, 192, 193. 

St. Louis. — See Louis IX. 

St. Simon, 471. 

Strafford, Lord, attainder of, 261. 

Stuart, Gilbert, view of the Feudal Sys- 
tem, 36. Animadversions upon Robert- 
son, 58, 670. His View of Society, 59. 
His opinion of Hume's History, 99. 

Stuart Papers, 311, 355. 

Succession, War of, 400. Protestant, in 
England, 425, 701. Right of the people 
to change in England, 351. 

Sully, Duke of. Memoirs, 186. 

Superstition, naturally allied to ignorance, 
55,61. Its effects, 669. 

Swiss, character of, 145, 146. 

Switzerland, 144. Government of, 147. 
— Se.e Helvetic Confederacy. 

Sympathy, influence of, 155. 



T. 



Tallage, 112. 

Taxation, 212. Arbitrary, quotation from 
Hume, 90. A prerogative of the Wit- 
enagemote, 111; of the people, 628. 
Right of, 120, 628. In the Netherlands, 

93 



under Alva, 212. In England, under 
Henry VIII., 232 ; at the present time, 
530. Effects of, 532. In America, 562, 
628; pamphlets on, 572. 

Tea, duty on, 568. 

Tcmple,"Sir William, his character, 329. 

Test Act, 353, 694. William III. attempts 
its repeal, 353. 

Thanes, greater and less, 109. 

Thiebault, Recollections of Frederic the 
Great, 512. 

Thirty- Years' War, 219. Schiller's His- 
tory of, 225. 

Thuanus, French History, 185. 

Toleration, 156, 158. Act of, under Wil- 
liam III., 354, 388. 

Towers, History of Frederic the Great, 
511. 

Treason Bill, 382. 

Trent, Council of. Father Paul's History 
of, 170. 

Triennial Bill, 382. 

Truce of the Lord, 69. 

Tucker (Dean of Gloucester), Tracts on 
American Taxation, 572. 

Turner, English History, 82. History of 
the Anglo-Saxons, 82, 148. 

U. 

Uniformity in religion, impossible, 169. 
Act of, 304. 

Union of England and Scotland, 434. 
Attempted by James I., ib. : by Crom- 
well and Charles II., 435. How carried, 
under Anne, 443. 

Utrecht, Union of, 215. Peace of, 408. 

Uxbridge, treaty of, 270. 



V. 



Vellt, 681. 

Veto of bills by William IIL, 381, 382. 

Villaret, 681. 

Villcrs, Essay on the Reformation, 177. 

Voltaire, History of Louis XIV., 308. 

Correspondence with Frederic the Great, 

524. 

W. 

Waldegeate, Lord, Memoirs of, 489. 

Walpole. Sir Robert, Coxe's Memoirs of, 
452. Burke's character of, 463 ; Hume's, 
702. Principal events of his administra- 
tion, 451 . His exertions in fovor of civil 
liberty, 453. Gives up the excise scheme, 
454, 457. 

Wars, civil and religious, in France, 188. 
Incident in, 189. Conclusions from, 190. 

War, in the Netherlands, 206. Thirty- 
Years', 219. Civil, in England, 268. 
Of Succession, 400. Seven- Years', 522. 



738 



INDEX. 



End of the French in America, 556 
American Revolutionary, 547. 
Washington, George, his Letters, 615, 617. 
Marshall's Life of, 622. Chosen Presi- 
dent, 649. Maintains neutrality of 
United States, 659. Retirement, 660. 
Death, 661. Character, 662. 
Wentworth, Peter, speech and examina- 
tion of, 235. 
Westphalia, treaty of, 227. 
Whigs, character and policy in the Revo- 
lution of 1688, 344, 347, 379, 698. At 
the accession of George I., 450: minis- 
try, during his reign, 536. 
WicklifFe, 178. 

William III., crowned, 350. Signs Bill 
of Rights, 352. His efforts for religious 
liberty, 353. His chai-acter, 390. Un- i 



successful in war, {b. His Continental 
wars, 391. Important events in his 
reign 391, 392. His Partition Treaties 
with Louis XIV., 395, 396. - See PrSce 
or Grange. 

^tiresfun! '"'' '""' '''■ ^''^'S^- 
Wraxall, Memoirs of the House of Valois, 
186. History of Trance, 187. 



YoEK, Duke of, 319, 694. - ^ee James IL 
Z. 



ZlSKA, 165. 
Zuinglius, 169. 



THE END. 



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